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The Rifle Rangers 


A THRILLING STORY OF DARING ADVENTURE 
AND HAIRBREADTH ESCAPES DURING 
THE MEXICAN WAR 


7 ^ 


BY / 


AUTHOR OF 


I 


CAPTAIN MAYNE REID 

“THE SCALP HUNTERS,’' “AFLOAT IN THE FOREST,” ETC. 


NEW YORK ^ 

HURST & CO., PUBLISHERS 
1899 


TWO COPIES HECEIVeo. 

'■lOr.ry of Ccogr,.% 
Offlco of thi 

8 - 1900 

«‘gl«f«r of Copyri^„^ 

^<■-7 


51091 

Copyright, 1899, 

By S. C. ANDREWS. 



SECOND COPY, 

J Wv\ ‘^S 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I. The Land of Anahuac 5 

II. An Adventure Among the Creoles of New Orleans. . . 25 

III. A Volunteer Rendezvous •• 3 ^ 

IV. Life on the Island of Lobos 3 ^ 

V. Lieutenant Sibley’s Story of a Georgia hotel 42 

VI. Major Twing’s Story of the Guyas-Cutis 48 

VII. A Skeleton Adventure 61 

VIII. The Landing at Sacrificios 69 

IX. The City of the True Cross 7^ 

X. Major Blossom 84 

XI. Scouting in the Chapparal 89 

XII. Adventure with a Cayman loi 

XIII. Don Cosme Rosales 

XIV. A Mexican Dinner 118 

XV. A Subterranean Drawing-room 126 

XVI. “The Norther” ^33 

XVII. A Little Fair Weather Again 138 

XVIII. The Scout Continued with a Variety of Reflections 143 

XIX. One Way of Taming a Bull 148 

XX. A Brush with the Guerilleros ^54 

XXI. A Herculean Feat ’'59 

XXII. Running the Gauntlet 163 

XXIII. A Short Fight at “ Long Shot ” 169 

XXIV. The Rescue ^79 

XXV. The Cocuyo ^^5 

^ XXVL Lupe and ^ 9 ^ 

XXVII. A Tough Night of It after All ^97 

XXVIII. The Light after the Shade 201 

XXIX. A Disappointment and a New Plan 208 

XXX. A Foolhardy Adventure 213 

XXXI. Help from Heaven 

XXXH. A Shot in the Dark 227 

XXXHI. Captured by Guerilleros 234 

XXXIV. A Blind Ride 242 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

XXXV. A Drink a la Cheval 246 

XXXVI. An Odd Way of Opening a Letter 252 

XXXVII. The Cobra-di-Capello 256 

XXXVIII. The Head-quarters of the Guerilla 260 

XXXIX. Chane’s Courtship 268 

XL. The Dance of the Tagarota 274 

XLL A Kiss in the Dark 278 

XLII. Maria de Merced 284 

XLIII. The Pursuit 289 

XLIV. A New and Terrible Enemy 292 

XLV. A Battle with Bloodhounds 297 

XLVI. An Indian Ruse 300 

XLVII. A Coup d’Eclair 305 

XLVIII. A Bridge of Monkeys 309 

XLIX. The Jarachos 315 

L. Padre Jarauta 320 

LI. A Hang by the Heels 326 

LIL A Very Short Trial 334 

LHI. A Bird’s-Eye View of a Battle 340 

LIV. An Odd Way of Escaping from a Battle-field 344 

LV. A Wholesale Capture 349 

LVI. A Duel with an Odd Ending 358 

LVH. A Brace of Ruffian Soldiers 364 

LVHI. A Brace of Foolish Officers 372 

LIX. “The Child of Atocha ” 379 

LX. The Barranca 390 

LXI. A Death Struggle 401 

LXII. An Adios 41 1 



Scene in Tropical America. Boatmen Attending Mass. 

THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE LAND OF ANAHUAC.* 



WAY over the dark, wild waves 
of the rolling Atlantic — away 
beyond the summer islands of 
the Western Ind — lies a lovely 
land. Its surface-aspect carries the hue 
of the emerald ; its sky is sapphire ; its 
sun is a globe of gold. It is the land of Anahuac. 

The tourist turns his face to the Orient — the poet sings 


* For pronunciations, definitions of patois^ and other peculiarities that 
occur in the following pages, the reader is referred to the “ Explanatory 
Notes ”at the end of the volume. 


5 



6 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


the gone glories of Greece — the painter elaborates the hack- 
neyed pictures of Apennine and Alp — the novelist turns the 
skulking thief of Italy into a picturesque bandit, or, Don 
Quixote-like, betaking himself into the misty middle age, 
entertains the romantic miss and milliner’s apprentice with 
stories of raven steeds, of plumed and impossible heroes. 
All — painter, poet, tourist, and novelist — in search of the 
bright and beautiful, the poetic and the picturesque — turn 
their backs upon this lovely land. 

Shall we ? No ! Westward, like the Genoese, we boldly 
venture — over the dark wild waves of the rolling Atlantic ; 
through among the sunny islands of Ind — westward to 
the land of Anahuac. Let us debark upon its shores ; let us 
pierce the secret depths of its forests ; let us climb its 
mighty mountains, and traverse its table-plains. 

Go with us, tourist ! Fear not. You shall look upon 
scenes grand and gloomy, bright and beautiful. Poet ! you 
shall find themes for poesy worthy its loftiest strains. 
Painter ! for you there are pictures fresh from the hand of 
God. Writer ! there are stories still untold by the author- 
artist — legends of love and hate, of gratitude and revenge, of 
falsehood and devotion, of noble virtue and ignoble crime 
— legends redolent of romance, rich in reality. 

Thither we steer, over the dark wild waves of the rolling 
Atlantic; through the summer islands of the Western Ind; 
onward — onward to the shores of Anahuac ! 

Varied is the aspect of that picture-land, abounding in 
scenes that change like the tints of the opal. Varied is the sur- 
face which these pictures adorn. Valleys that open deep into 
the earth ; mountains that lead the eye far up into heaven ; 
plains that stretch to the horizon’s verge, until the rim of 
the blue canopy seems to rest upon their limitless level ; 
“ rolling ” landscapes, whose softly-turned ridges remind one 
of the wavy billows of the ocean. 

Alas ! word-painting can give but a faint idea of these 


THE LAND OF ANAHUAC. 


7 

scenes. The pen can but feebly portray the grand and sub- 
lime effect produced upon the mind of him who gazes down 
into the deep valleys, or glances upward to the mighty 
mountains of Mexico. 

Though feeble be the effort, I shall attempt a series of 
sketches from memory. They are the panoramic views that 
present themselves during a single “Jornada.” 

I stand upon the shores of the Mexican Gulf. The waves 
lip gently up to my feet upon a beach of silvery sand. The 
water is pure and translucent, of azure blue, here and there 
crested with the pearly froth of coral breakers. I look to 
the eastward, and hehold a summer sea that seems to in- 
vite navigation. But where are the messengers of commerce 
with their white wings.? The solitary skiff of the savage 
“pescador ” is making its way through the surf; a lone 
“ polacca ” beats up the coast with its half-smuggler crew ; 
a “ piragua ” swings at anchor in a neighboring cove ; this is 
all ! Far as eye and glass can reach, no other sail is in 
sight. The beautiful sea before me is almost unfurrowed by 
the keels of commerce. 

From this I draw ideas of the land and its inhabitants — 
unfavorable ideas of their moral and material condition. 
No commerce — no industry — no prosperity. Stay ! What 
see I yonder ? Perhaps I have been wronging them. A 
dark, tower-like object looms up against the horizon. It is the 
smoke of a steamer — sign of advanced civilization — emblem 
of active life. She nears the shore. Ha ! a foreign flag — 
the flag of another land trails over her taffrail ; a foreign flag 
floats at her peak ; foreign faces appear above her bulwarks, 
and foreign words issue from the lips of her commander. 
She is not of the land. My first conjecture was right. 

She makes for the principal port. She lands a small 
parcel of letters and papers, a few bales of merchandise, 
half a dozen slightly-formed cadaverous men ; and then, 
putting about, a gun is fired, and she is off again. She 


8 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


soon disappears away upon the wide ocean ; and the waves 
once more roll silently in — their glistening surface broken 
only by the flapping of the albatross or the plunge of the 
osprey. 

* * * :f: * 

I direct my eyes northward, I behold a belt of white 
sand skirting the blue water. I turn towards the south, and 
in this direction perceive a similar belt. To both points it 
extends beyond the reach of vision — hundreds of miles 
beyond — forming, like a ribbon of silver, the selvage of the 
Mexican Sea. It separates the turquoise blue of the water 
from the emerald green of the forest, contrasting with each 
by its dazzling whiteness. Its surface is far from being 
level, as is usual with the ocean-strand. On the contrary, 
its millions of sparkling atoms, rendered light by the burn- 
ing sun of the tropic, have been lifted on the wings of the 
wind, and thrown into hills and ridges hundreds of feet in 
height, and trending in every direction like the wreaths of a 
great snow-drift. I advance with difficulty over these naked 
ridges, where no vegetation finds nourishment in the inor- 
ganic heap. I drag myself wearily along, sinking deeply 
at every step. I climb sand-hills of strange and fantastic 
shapes, cones, and domes, and roof-like ridges, where the 
sportive wind seems to have played with the plastic mass, 
as children with potter’s clay. I encounter huge basins 
like the crater of volcanoes, formed by the circling swirl ; 
deep chasms and valleys, whose sides are walls of sand, 
steep, often vertical, and not unfrequently impending with 
comb-like escarpments. 

All these features may be changed in a single night, by 
the magical breath of the “norther.” The hill to-day may 
become the valley to-morrow, and the elevated ridge have 
given place to the sunken chasm. 

Upon the summits of these sand-heights I am fanned by 


THE LAND OF ANAHUAC. 


9 


the cool breeze from the Gulf. I descend into the shel- 
tered gorges, and am burned by a trppic sun, whose beams, 
reflected from a thousand crystals, torture my eyes and brain. 
In these parts the traveler is often the victim of the coup-de- 
soleil. 

#****# 

Yonder comes the “ norte^\> Along the northern horizon 
the sky suddenly changes from light blue to a dark lead 
color. Sometimes rumbling thunder with arrowy lightning 
portends the change ; but if neither seen nor heard, it is 
soon felt. The hot atmosphere, that, but a moment before, 
encased me in its glowing embrace, is suddenly pierced by 
a chill breeze, that causes my skin to creep and my frame to 
shiver. In its icy breath there is fever — there is death ; 
for it carries on its wings the dreaded “ vomito.’^ The breeze 
becomes a strong wind — a tempest. The sand is lifted up- 
wards, and floats through the air in dun clouds, here settling 
down, and there rising up again. I dare not face it, any 
more than I would the blast of the simoon. I should be 
blinded if I did, or blistered by the “ scud ” of the angular 
atoms. The “ norther ” continues for hours, sometimes for 
days. It departs as suddenly as it came, carrying its bane- 
ful influence to lands farther south. 

It is past, and the sand-hills have assumed a different 
shape. The ridges trend differently. Some have disap- 
peared, and valleys yawn open where they stood ! 

Such are the shores of Anahuac — the shores of the 
Mexican Sea. Without commerce — almost harborless — 
a waste of sand ; but a waste of striking appearance and 
picturesque beauty. 

To horse and inwards ! Adieu to the bright blue waters 
of the Gulf ! 

We have crossed the sand-ridges of the coast, and are rid- 


10 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 



ing through the shadowy aisles of the forest. It is a tropical 
forest. The outlines of the leaves, their breadth, their glowing 
colors all reveal this. The eye roams.with delight over a frond- 
age that partakes equally of the gold and the green. It rev- 
els along waxen leaves, as those of the magnolia, the plantain 
and the banana. It is led upward by the rounded trunks of 
the palms, that like colun^ns appear to support the leafy can- 


Members of the First Families of Mexico. 


opy above. It penetrates the network of vines, or follows the 
diagonal direction of gigantic llianasj^that creep like monster 
serpents from tree to tree. It gazes with pleased wonder 
upon the huge bamboo-briers and tree-ferns. Wherever it 
turns, flowers open their corollas to meet its delighted glance 
— tropical tree-flowers, blossoms of the scarlet vine, and 
trumpet-shaped tubes of the bignonia. 

I turn my eyes to every side, and gaze upon a floral to me 
strange and interesting. I behold the tall stems of the palma 


THE LAND OF ANAHUAC. 


II 


real rising one hundred feet without leaf or branch, and 
supporting a parachute of feathery fronds that wave to the 
slightest impulse of the breeze. Beside it I see its constant 
companion, the Indian cane — a small palm-tree, whose 
slender trunk and low stature contrast oddly with the colossal 
proportions of its lordly protector. I behold the “ corozo” 
of the same genus with the paMa 7'eal — its light feathery 
frondage streaming outwards and bending downwards, as if 
to protect from the hot sun the globe-shaped nuts that hang 
in grape-like clusters beneath. I see the ‘‘ abanico,” with 
its enormous fan-shaped leaves ; the wax-palm distilling its 
resinous gum ; and the “acrocomia,” with its thorny trunk 
and enormous racemes of golden fruits. By the side of the 
stream I guide my horse among the columnar stems of the 
noble coeva which has been enthusiastically but appropriate- 
ly termed the “ bread of life ” {^pan de vidd). 

I gaze with wonder upon the ferns, those strange creatures 
of the vegetable world, that upon the hillsides of my own far 
island-home scarce reach the knee in height. Here they 
are arborescent— tree-ferns — rivaling their cousins the palms 
in stature, and like them, with their tall, straight stems and 
lobed leaves, contributing to the picturesqueness of the land- 
scape. I admire the beautiful mammey with its great oval 
fruit and saffron pulp. I ride under the spreading limbs of 
the mahogany-tree, marking its oval pinnate leaves, and the 
egg-like seed capsules that hang from its branches ; thinking 
as well of the brilliant surfaces that lie concealed wdthin its 
dark and knotty trunk.;. Onward I ride, through glistening 
foliage and glowing flowers, that, under the beams of a tropic 
sun, present the varying hues of the rainbow. 

There is no wind — scarcely a breath stirring; yet here and 
there the leaves are in motion. The wings of bright birds 
flash before the eye, passing from tree to tree. The gaudy 
tanagers, that cannot be tamed — the noisy lories, the resplen^ 
dent trogons, the toucans with their huge clumsy billSj and 


12 THE RIFLE RANGERS. 

the tiny bee-birds (the irochili and colibri ) — all glance through 
the sunny vistas. 

The carpenter-bird — the great woodpecker — hangs against 
the decayed trunk of some dead tree, beating the hollow 
bark, and now and then sounding his clarion note, which is 
heard to the distance of a mile. Out of the under wood 



An Aerial Republic. Nest of the Sociable Weaver Birds. 


springs the crested curassow ; or, basking in the sun-lit 
glades, with outspread wings gleaming with metallic luster, 
may be seen the beautiful turkey of Honduras. 

The graceful roe {cervus Mexica^ius) bounds forward, _ 
startled by the tread ot the advancing horse. The caiman 
crawls lazily along the bank, or hides his hideous body under 
the water of a sluggish stream, and the not less hideous form 
of the iguana, recognized by its serrated crest, is seen 


THE LAND OF ANAHUAC. 


13 

crawling up the tree-trunk or lying along the slope of a lliana. 
The green lizard scuttles along the path — the basilisk looks 
with glistening eyes from the dark interstices of some cor- 
rugated vine — the biting geckotin glides among the dry leaves 
in pursuit of its insect prey — and the chameleon advances 
sluggishly along the branches, while it assumes their color 
to deceive its victims. 

Serpent forms present themselves. Now and then the 
huge boa and the macaurel, twining the trees. The great 
tiger-snake is seen with his head raised half a yard from the 
surface ; the cascabel, too, coiled like a cable ; and the coral- 
snake with his red and ringed body stretched at full length 
along the ground. The two last, though inferior in size to 
the boas, are more to be dreaded ; and my horse springs 
back when he sees the one glistening through the grass, or 
hears the “ skir-r-r-r ” of the other threatening to strike. 

Quadrupeds and quadrumana appear. The red monkey 
{mono Colorado) runs at the traveler’s approach, and, flinging 
himself from limb to limb, hides among the vines and Tina7id~ 
sia on the high tree-tops ; and the tiny ouistiti, with its pretty, 
childlike countenance, peers innocently through the leaves ; 
while the ferocious zambo fills the woods with its hideous, 
half-human voice. 

The jaguar is not far distant, “ laired ” in the secret 
depths of the impenetrable jungle. His activity is nocturnal, 
and his beautiful spotted body may not be seen except 
by the silver light of the moon. Roused by accident, or 
pressed by the dogs of the hunter, he may cross my path. 
So, too, may the ocelot and the lynx ; or, as I ride silently 
on, I may chance to view the long, tawny form of the Mex- 
ican lion, crouched upon a horizontal limb, and watching for 
the timid stag that must pass beneath. I turn prudently 
aside, and leave him to his hungry vigil. 

Night brings a change. The beautiful birds — the par- 
rots, the toucans, and the trogons all go to rest at an 



14 THE RIFLE RANGERS. 

early hour ; and other winged creatures take possession 
of the air. Some need not fear the darkness, for their 
very life is light. Such are the “ cocuyos,” whose brilliant 
lamps of green, and gold, and flame, gleam through the aisles 
of the forest, until the air seems on fire. Such, too, are the 
“gusanitos,” the female of which — a wingless insect, like a 
glow-worm— lies along the leaf, while her mate whirrs gaily 


Desperate Encounter with a Mexican Jaguar. 

around, shedding his most captivating gleams as he woos 
her upon the wing. But, though light is the life of these 
beautiful creatures, it is often the cause of their death. It 
guides their enemies — the night hawk and the “ whip-poor- 
will,” the bat, and the owl. Of these last, the hideous vam- 
pire may be seen flapping his broad dark wings in quick, 
irregular turnings, and the great “ lechuza” {sh'ix Mcxicana), 
issuing from his dark tree-cave, utters his fearful 'notes» that 


THE LAND OF ANAHUAC, 


15 


resemble the moanings of one who is being hanged. Now 
may be heard the scream of the cougar, and the hoarser 
voice of the Mexican tiger. Now may be heard the wild, 



Moonlight in the Tropics : Tapirs, Ant-Eaters and Iguana. 

disagreeable cries of the howling monkeys {alouattes)^ and 
the barking of the dog-wolf ; and, blending with these, the 
croaking of the tree-toads and the shrill tinkling of the bell- 
frog. Perhaps the air is no longer, as in the day-time, filled 
with sweet perfumes. The aroma of a thousand flowers has 



i6 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


yielded to the fetid odor of the skunk {mephilis chingd ) — 
for that singular creature is abroad ; and having quarreled 
with one of the forest denizens, has caused all of them to 
feel the power of its resentment. 

Such are some of the features of the tropical forest that 
lies between the Gulf and the Mexican mountains. But the 
aspect of this region is not all wild. There are cultivated 
districts — settlements, though far apart. 

The forest opens, and the scene suddenly changes. Before 
me is a plantation — the hacienda of a “ rico.” There are wide 
fields tilled by peon serfs, who labor and sing ; but their 
song is sad. Its music is melancholy. It is the voice of a 
conquered race. 

Yet the scene around them is gay and joyful. All but the 
people appears to prosper. Vegetation luxuriates in its fullest 
growth. Both fruit and flower exhibit the hues of a perfect 
development. Man alone seems stunted in his outlines. 

There is a beautiful stream meandering through the open 
fields. Its waters are clear and cool. They are the melted 
snows of Orizava. Upon its banks grow clumps of the cocoa- 
palm and the majestic plantain. There are gardens upon 
its banks, and orchards filled with the fruit-trees of the 
tropics. I see the orange with its golden globes, the sweet 
lime, the shaddock, and the guava-tree. I ride under the 
shade of the aguacate {laurus Persed)^ and pluck the luscious 
fruits of the cherimolla. The breeze blowing over fields 
carries on its wings the aroma of the coffee-tree, the indigo 
plant, the vanilla bean, or the wholesome cacao {theobroma 
cacao) ; and, far as the eye can reach, I see glancing gaily in 
the sun the green spears and golden tassels of the sugar- 
cane. 

Interesting is the aspect of the tropical forest. Not less 
so is that of the tropical field. . . . 

I ride onward and inward into the land. I am gradually 
ascending from the sea- level. I no longer travel upon 


THE LAND OF ANAHUAC. 


17 


horizontal paths, but over hills and steep ridges, across deep 
valleys and ravines. The hoof of my horse no longer sinks 
in light sand or dark alluvion. It rings upon rocks of amyg- 
daloid and porphyry. The soil is changed ; the scenery has 
undergone a change, and e'ven the atmosphere that surrounds 



A Sugar-cane Plantation, 

me. The last is perceptibly cooler, but not yet cold. I am 
still in the piedmont lands — the tierras caltenies. The tem- 
pladas are yet far higher. I am only a thousand yards or 
so above sea-level. I am in the “ foot-hills ’*of the Northern 
Andes. 

How sudden is this change ! It is less than an hour since 

2 


i8 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


I parted from the plains below, and yet the surface-aspect 
around me is like that of another land. I halt in a wild spot, 
and survey it with eyes that wander and wonder. The leaf 
is less broad, the foliage less dense, the jungle more open. 
There are ridges whose sides are nearly naked of tree-timber. 
The palms have disappeared, but in their place grow kindred 
forms that in many respects resemble them. They are, in 
fact, the palms of the mountains. I behold the great 
palmetto {chamcnrops), with its fan-like fronds standing out 
upon long petioles from its lofty summit ; the yuccas, with 
their bayonet-shaped leaves, ungraceful, but picturesque, 
with ponderous clusters of green and pulpy capsules. I 
behold ihQpita aloe, with its tall flower-stalk and thorny sun- 
scorched leaves. I behold strange forms of the cactus, with 
their glorious wax-like blossoms ; the cochineal, the tuna, 
the opuntias — the great tree-cactus “ Foconoztle ” {opuntia 
arborescens) and the tall pitahaya {cereus giganteus)^ with 
columnar shafts and straight upright arms, like the branches 
of gigantic candelabra ; the echino-cacti too — those huge 
mammals of the vegetable world, resting their globular or 
egg-shaped forms, without trunk or stalk, upon the surface 
of the earth. 

There, too, I behold gigantic thistles {cardonales) and 
mimosas, both shrubby and arborescent — the tree-mimosa, 
and the sensitive plant {mimosa frutescens)^ that shrinks at 
my approach, and closes its delicate leaflets until I have 
passed ovitof sight This is the favorite land of the acacia ; 
and immense tracts, covered v/ith its various species, form 
impenetrable thickets {chapparals') . I distinguish in these 
thickets the honey-locust, with its long purple legumes, the 
“ algarobo ” (carob-tree), and the thorny “ mezquite ” ; and, 
rising over all the rest, I descry the tall, slender stem of the 
Fouquiera splendens — with panicles of tube-shaped crimson 
flowers. 

There is less of animal life here ; but even these wild 


THE LAND OF ANAHUAC. 


19 


ridges have their denizens. The cochineal insect crawls 
upon the cactus leaf, and huge winged ants build their clay 
nests upon the branches of the acacia-tree. The ant-bear 
squats upon the ground, and projects his glutinous tongue 
over the beaten highway, where the busy injects rob the 
mimosae of their aromatic leaves. The armadillo, with his 
bands and rhomboidal scales, takes refuge in the dry recesses 
of the rocks, or, clewing himself up, rolls over the cliff to 
escape his pursuer. Herds of cattle, half wild, roam through 
the grassy glades, or over the tufted ridges, lowing for water ; 
and black vultures (zopilotes) sail through the cloudless 
heavens, waiting for some scene of death to be enacted in 
the thickets below. 

Here, too, I pass through scenes of cultivation. Here is 
the hut of the peon and the rar^cho of the small proprietor ; 
but they are structures of a more substantial kind than in the 
region of the palm. They are of stone. Here, too, is the 
hacienda, with its low white walls and prison-like windows ; 
and the pueblita, with its church and cross and gaily painted 
steeple. Here the Indian corn takes the place of the sugar- 
cane, and I ride through wide fields of the broad-leafed 
tobacco-plant. Here grow the jalap and the guaiacum, the 
sweet-scented sassafras and the sanitary copaiba. 

I ride onward, climbing steep ridges and descending into 
chasms (barrancas) that yawn deeply and gloomily. Many 
of these are thousands of feet in depth ; and the road that 
enables me to reach their bottoms is often no more than a 
narrow ledge of the impending cliff, running terrace-like over 
a foaming torrent. 

Still onward and upward I go, until the “ foot-hills ” are 
passed, and I enter a defile of the mountains themselves — a 
pass of the Mexican Andes. 

f ride through, under the shadow of dark forests and 
rocks of blue porphyry. I emerge upon the other side of 
the sierra. A new scene opens before my eyes^a scene of 


20 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


such soft loveliness that I suddenly rein up my horse, and 
gaze upon it with mingled feelings of admiration and as- 
tonishment. I am looking on one of the “ valles ” of Mexico, 
those great table-plains that lie within the cordilleras of the 
Andes, thousands of feet above ocean level, and, along with 
these mountains, stretching from the tropic almost to the 
shores of the Arctic Sea. 

The plain before me is level, as though its surface were 
liquid. I see mountains bounding it on all sides; but there 
are passes through them that lead into other plains (valles). 
These mountains have no foot-hills. They stand up directly 
from the plain itself, sometimes with sloping conical sides — 
sometimes in precipitous cliffs. 

I ride into the plain and survey its features. There is no 
resemblance to the land I have left — the tier7‘a caliente. 
I am now in the tierra templada. New objects present them- 
selves — a new aspect is before, a new atmosphere around 
me. The air is colder, but it is only the temperature of 
spring. To me it feels chilly, coming so lately from the hot 
lands below ; and I fold my cloak closely around me, and 
ride on. 

The view is open, for the valle is almost treeless. The 
scene is no longer wild. The earth has a cultivated aspect 
— an aspect of civilization : for these high plateaux — the 
tierras templadas — are the seat of Mexican civilization. 
Here are the towns — the great cities, with their rich cathedrals 
and convents — here dwells the bulk of the population. Here 
the rancho is built of unburnt bricks {adobes') — a mud cabin, 
often enclosed by hedges of the columnar cactus. Here are 
whole villages of such huts, inhabited by the dark-skinned 
descendants of the ancient Aztecs. 

Fertile fields are around me. I behold the' maguey of 
culture {agave Americana)^ in all its giant proportions. The 
lancelike blades of the zea maize wave with a rich rustling 
in the breeze, for here that beautiful plant grows in its 



THE LAND OF ANAHUAC. 21 

greatest luxuriance. Immense plains are covered with wheat, 
with capsicum, and the Spanish bean {^frijoles^ My eyes are 
gladdened by the sight of roses climbing along the wall or 
twining the portal. Here, too, the potato {solanutn tubero- 
sum) flourishes in its native soil ; the pear and the pome- 
granate, the quince and the apple, are seen in the orchard ; 
and the cereals of the temperate zone grow side by side with 
the cucurbitaceae of the tropics. 


Among the Aztecs, A Temple of the Sun. 

I pass from one valle into another, by crossing a low 
ridge of the dividing mountains. Mark the change ! A sur- 
face of green is before me, reaching on all sides to the 
mountain foot ; and upon this roam countless herds, tended 
by mounted “ vaqueros.” 

I pass another ridge, and another valle stretches before 
me. Again a change ! A desert of sand, over the surface 
of which move tall dun columns of swirling dust, like the 
gigantic phantoms of some spirit-world. I look into another 


22 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


valle, and behold shining waters — lakes like inland seas — 
with sedgy shores and surrounded by green savannas, and 
vast swamps covered with reeds and “ tulares ” (bulrush). 

Still another plain, black with lava and the scoriae of ex- 
tinct volcanoes — black, treeless and herbless — with not an 
atom of organic matter upon its desolate surface. 

Such are the features of the plateau land — varied, and vast, 
and full of wild interest. 

I leave it and climb higher — nearer to the sky — up the 
steep sides of the Cordilleras — up to the sierra fria. 

******* 

I stand ten thousand feet above the level of the ocean. I 
am under the deep shadows of a forest. Huge trunks grow 
around me, hindering a distant view. Where am I ? Not in 
the tropic, surely, for these trees are of a northern sylva. I 
recognize the gnarled limbs and lobed leaves of the oak, 
the silvery branches of the mountain-ash, the cones and 
needles of the pine. The wind, as it swirls among the dead 
leaves, causes me to shiver ; and high up among the twigs 
there is the music of winter in its moaning. Yet I am in the 
torrid zone; and the same sun that now glances coldly 
through the boughs of the oak, but a few hours before 
scorched me as it glistened from the fronds of the palm- 
tree. 

The forest opens, and I behold hills under culture — fields 
of hemp and flax, and the hardy cereals of the frigid zone. 
The rancho of the husbandman is a log cabin, with shingled 
roof and long projecting eaves, unlike the dwellings either 
of the great valles or the tierras calientes. I pass the smoking 
pits of the ‘^carbonero,” and I meet the “arriero ” with his 

atajo ” of mules heavily laden with ice of the glaciers. They 
are passing with their cargoes, to cool the wine-cups in the 
great cities of the plains. . . . 

Upward and upward 1 The oak is left behind, and the 


THE LAND OF ANAHUAC. 23 

pine grows stunted and dwarfish. The wind blows colder 
and colder. A wintry aspect is around me. . . . 

Upward still. The pine disappears. No vegetable form 
is seen save the mosses and lichens that cling to the rocks, 
as within the Arctic Circle. I am on the selvage of the snow 
— the eternal snow. I walk upon glaciers, and through their 
translucent mass I behold the lichens growing beneath. 

The scene is bleak and desolate, and I am chilled to the 
marrow of my bones. 

Excelsior I excelsior I The highest point is not yet 
reached. Through drifts of snow and over fields of ice, up 
steep ledges, along the slippery escarpment that overhangs 
the giddy absym, with wearied knees, and panting breath, 
and frozen fingers, onward and upward I go. Ha ! I have 
won the goal. I am on the summit ! 

I stand on the “ cumbre ” of Orizava — the mountain of the 
“ burning star ’’—more than three miles above the ocean level. 
My face is turned to the east, and I look downward. The 
snow — the cincture of lichens and naked rocks — the dark belt 
of pines — the lighter foliage of the oaks — the fields of barley 
— the waving maize — the thickets of yucca and acacia-trees — 
the palm forest — the shore — the sea itself with its azure waves 
• — all these at a single vision ! From the summit of Orizava 
to the shores of the Mexican sea, I glance through every 
gradation of the thermal line. I am looking, as it were, from 
the pole to the equator ! 

I am alone. My brain is giddy. My pulse vibrates ir- 
regularly, and my heart beats with an audible distinctness. 
I am oppressed with a sense of my own nothingness — an 
atom, almost invisible, upon the breast of the mighty earth. 

I gaze and listen. I see, but I hear not. Here is sight, 
but no sound. Around me reigns an awful stillness — the 
sublime silence of the Omnipotent, who alone is here. 

Hark ! the silence is broken ! Was it the rumbling of 
thunder? No. It was the crash of the falling avalanche. I 


24 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


tremble at its voice. It is the voice of the Invisible — the 
whisper of a God ! . . . 

I tremble and worship. 

Reader, could you thus stand upon the summit of Ori- 
zava, and look down to the shores of the Mexican Gulf, you 
would have before you, as on a map, the scene of our “ ad- 
ventures.” 



.1 

i 

I 



Hunting Buffalo on the Headwaters of the Missouri. 


CHAPTER II. 

AN ADVENTURE AMONG THE CREOLES OF NEW ORLEANS. 

N the “fall” of 
1846, 1 found my- 
self in the city of 
New Orleans, fill- 
ing up one of those 
pauses that occur be- 
tween the chapters of an 
eventful life — doing noth- 
ing. I have said an 
eventful life. In the re- 
trospect of ten years, I 
could not remember as 
many weeks spent in one 
place. I had traversed the continent from north to south, 
and crossed it from sea to sea. My foot had pressed the 
summits of the Andes, and climbed the Cordilleras of the 
Sierra Madre. I had steamed it down the Mississippi, 

and sculled it up the Orinoco. I had hunted buffaloes 
with the Pawnees of the Platte, and ostriches upon the 
pampas of the Plata : to-day shivering in the hut of an 
Esquimaux— a month after, taking my siesta in an aery 
couch under the gossamer frondage of the corozo palm. 

25 



26 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 



I had eaten raw meat with the trappers of the Rocky 
Mountains, and roast monkey among the Mosquito Indians 5 
and much more, which might weary the reader, and ought 
to have made the writer a wiser man. But, I fear, the spirit 
of adventure — -its thirst — is within me slakeless. I had just 
returned from a “scurry ” among the Comanches of Western 
Texas, and the idea of “ settling down” was as far from my 
mind as ever. 


“ I had eaten roast monkey among the Mosquito Indians.” 

“ What next ? what next ? ” thought I. “ Ha ! the war with 
Mexico.” 

The war between the United States and that country had 
now fairly commenced. My sword — a fine Toledo, taken 
from a Spanish officer at San Jacinto — hung over the man- 
tel, rusting ingloriously. Near it were my pistols — a pair of 
Colt’s revolvers — pointing at each other in sullen muteness. 
A warlike ardor seized upon me ; and clutching, not the 
sword, but my pen, I wrote to the War Department for a com- 
mission ; and, summoning all my patience, awaited the 
answer. 

But I waited in vain. Every bulletin from Washington ex- 


AN ADVENTURE AMONG THE CREOLES. 27 

hibited its list of new-made officers, but my name appeared 
not among them. In New Orleans — that most patriotic of 
republican cities — epaulettes gleamed upon every shoulder, 
whilst I, with the anguish of a Tantalus, was compelled to 
look idly and enviously on. Despatches came in daily from 
the seat of war filled with newly-glorious names ; and 
steamers from the same quarter brought fresh batches 
of heroes — some legless, some armless, and others with 
a bullet-hole through the cheek, and perhaps the loss of a 
dozen teeth or so ; but all thickly covered with laurels. 

November came, but no commission. Impatience and 
ennui had fairly mastered me. The time hung heavily upon 
my hands. 

“ How can I best pass the hour ? I shall go to the 
French opera, and hear Calve.” 

Such were my reflections as I sat one evening in my soli- 
tary chamber. In obedience to this impulse, I repaired to 
the theater ; but the bellicose strains of the opera, instead 
of soothing, only heightened my warlike enthusiasm, and I 
walked homeward, abusing, as I went, the president and the 
Secretary-at-War, and the whole government— legislative, judi- 
cial, and executive. Republics are ungrateful,” solilo- 
quized I, in a spiteful mood. “ I have ‘ surely put in strong 
enough ’ for it ; my political connections — besides, the gov- 
ernment owes me a favor ” 

“ CTar out, ye niggers ! Dang yer ! what de yer want ? ” 
This was a voice that reached me as I passed through the 
dark corner of the Faubourg Treme. Then followed some 
exclamations in French ; a scuffle ensued, a pistol went off, 
and I heard the same voice again calling out : 

“ Four till one ! Injuns ! Murder ! Help, hyur ! ” 

I ran up. It was very dark ; but the glimmer of a distant 
lamp enabled me to perceive a man out in the middle of the 
street, defending himself against four others. He was a man 
of giant size, and flourished a bright weapon, which I took 


28 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


to be a bowie-knife, while his assailants struck at him on all 
sides with sticks and stilettoes. A small boy ran back and 
forth upon the banquette, calling for help. 

Supposing it to be some street quarrel, I endeavored to 
separate the parties by remonstrance. I rushed between them 
holding out my cane ; but a sharp cut across the knuckles, 
which I had received from one of the small men, together 
with his evident intention to follow it up, robbed me of all 
zest for pacific meditation ; and, keeping my eye upon the 
one who had cut me, I drew a pistol (I could not otherwise 
defend myself), and fired. The man fell dead in his tracks, 
without a groan. His comrades, hearing me recock, took to 
their heels, and disappeared up a neighboring alley. 

The whole scene did not occupy the time you have spent 
in reading this relation of it. One minute I was plodding 
quietly homeward ; the next, I stood in the middle of the 
street ; beside me a stranger of gigantic proportions ; at my 
feet a black mass of dead humanity, half doubled up in the 
mud as it had fallen ; on the banquette, the slight, shivering 
form of a boy ; while above and around were silence and 
darkness. 

I was beginning to fancy the whole thing a dream, when 
the voice of the man at my side dispelled this illusion. 

“ Mister,” said he, placing his arms akimbo, and facing me, 
“ if ye’ll tell me yur name, I ain’t a-gwine to forgit it. No, 
Bob Linkin ain’t that sorter.” 

“ What ! Bob Lincoln ? Bob Lincoln of the Peaks ? 

In the voice I had recognized a celebrated mountain trap- 
per, and an old acquaintance, whom I had not met for sev- 
eral years. 

“ Why, I’ll be scalped ! it ain’t you, Cap’n Haller? May 
I be dog-goned if it ain’t ! Whooray ! — whoop ! I knowed 
it warn’t no storekeeper fired that shot. Haroo ! whar are 
yur, Jack?” 


AN ADVENTURE AMONG THE CREOLES. 29 


“ Here I am ! ” answered the boy, from the pavement. 

“ Kum hyur, then. Ye ain't badly skeert, air yur ? ” 

No, ’ firmly responded the boy, crossing over. 

“ I tuk him from a scoundrelly Crow, thet I overhauled on 
a fork of the Yellerstone. He gin me a long pedigree ; that 
is, afore I kilt the skunk. He made out as how his people 
hed tuk the boy from the Kimanches, who hed brought him 
from somewhar down the Grande. I know’d it wur all bam- 
boozle. The boy's white — American white. Who ever seed 
a yeller-hided Mexikin with them eyes and ha’r ? Jack, this 
hyur’s Cap’n Haller. If yur kin iver save his life bygivin’ 
yur own, yur must do it, de ye hear ? " 

“ I will,” said the boy resolutely. 

“ Come, Lincoln,” I interposed, “ these conditions are not 
necessary. You remember I was in your debt.” 

“ Ain’t worth mentionin’, cap ; let bygones be bygones ! ” 
“ But what brought you to New Orleans ? or, more particu- 
larly, how came you into this scrape ? ” 

“ Wal, cap’n, bein’ as the last question is the most par- 
tickler, I’ll gin yur the answer to it fust. I had jest twelve 
dollars in my pouch, an’ I tuk a idee inter my head thet I 
mout as well double it. So I stepped into a shanty whar 
they wur a-playin’ craps. After bettin’ a good spell, I won 
somewhar about a hundred dollars. Not likin’ the sign I 
seed about, I tuk Jack and put out. Wal, jest as I was 
kummin’ roun’ this hyur corner, four fellers — them ye seed — 
run out and jumped me, like so many catamounts. I tuk 
them for the same chaps I had seed parley vooin’ at the 
craps table ; and tho’t they were only jokin’, till one of them 
gin me a sockdolloger over the head, an’ fired a pistol. I 
then drewed my bowie, an’ the skrimmage begun ; an’ thet’s 
all I know about it, cap’n, more’n yurself. 

“Let’s see if it’s all up with this’n,” continued the hunter, 
stooping. “ I’deed, yes,” he drawled out ; “ dead as a buck. 
Thunder ! ye’ve gin it him atween the eyes, plum ! He A 


30 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


one of the fellers, es my name’s Bob Linkin. I kud sw’ar 
to them mowstaches among a million.” 

At this moment a patrol of night gendarmes came up ; 
and Lincoln, and Jack, and myself were carried off to the 
calaboose, where we spent the remainder of the night. In 
the morning we were brought before the recorder ; but I 
had taken the precaution to send for some friends, who 
introduced me to his worship in a proper manner. As my 
story corroborated Lincoln’s, and his mine, and “ Jack’s ” sub- 
stantiated both ; and as the comrades of the dead creole did 
not appear, and he himself was identified by the police as 
a notorious robber, the recorder dismissed the case as one 
of “ justifiable homicide in self-defense ; ” and the hunter and 
[ were permitted to go our way without further interruption. 




CHAPTER III. 

A VOLUNTEER RENDEZVOUS. 

OW, Cap,” said Lincoln, as we seated 
ourselves at the table of a cafe, “ Til 
answer t’other question yur put last 
night. I wur up on the head of Ar- 
kansaw, an’ bearin’ they wur raisin’ 
volunteers down hyur, I kim down ter 
jine. It ain’t often I trouble the 
settlements ; but I’ve a mighty pun- 
cheon, as the Frenchmen says, to hev a crack at them 
yeller-bellies. I hain’t forgot a mean trick they sarved me 
two yeern ago, up thar by Santer Fe. ” 

“ And so you have joined the volunteers ? ” 

“That’s sartin. But why ain’t you a-gwine to Mexico? 
That ’ere’s a wonder to me, cap, why you ain’t. Thur’s a 
mighty grist o’ venturin’, I heern ; beats Injun fightin’ all 
holler, an’ yur jest the beaver I’d ’spect to find in that ’ar 
dam. Why don’t you go ? ” 

“ So I purposed long since, and wrote on to Washington 
tor a commission ; but the government seems to have for- 
gotten me.” 

“ Dod rot the government ! git a commission for yourself.’' 

“ How ? ” I asked. 

31 




32 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Jine us, an’ be illected — thet’s how.” 

This had crossed my mind before ; but, believing myself 
a stranger among these volunteers, I had given up the idea. 
Once joined, he who failed in being elected an officer was 
fated to shoulder a firelock. It was a neck or nothing then. 
Lincoln set things in a new light. They were strangers to 
each other, he affirmed, and my chances of being elected 
would therefore be as good as any man’s. 

“ I’ll tell yur what it is,” said he ; “ yur kin kum with me 
ter the rendevooz, an’ see for yourself ; but if ye’ll only 
jine, an’ licker freely, I’ll lay a pack o’ beaver agin the skin 
of a mink that they’ll illect ye captain of the company.’^ 

“ Even a lieutenancy,” I interposed. 

“ Ne’er a bit of it, cap. Go the big figger. ’Tain’t more 
nor yur entitled to. I kin git yur a good heist among some 
hunters thet’s thur ; but thar’s a Buffalo dro\:e o’ them 
parleyvoos, an’ a feller among ’em, one of those hyur cree- 
holes, that’s been a-showin’ off and fencin’ with a pair of 
skewers from mornin’ till night. Td be dog-gone glad to 
see the starch taken out o’ that feller.” 

I took my resolution. In half an hour after I was stand- 
ing in a large hall or armory. It was the rendezvous of the 
volunteers, nearly all of whom were present ; and perhaps 
a more variegated assemblage was never grouped together. 
Every nationality seemed to have its representative; and 
for variety of language the company might have rivaled the 
masons of Babel. 

Near the head of the room was a table, upon which lay 
a large parchment, covered with signatures. I added mine 
to the list. In the act I had staked my liberty. It was an 
oath. ; 

“ These are my rivals — the candidates for office, ’ thought 
I, looking at a group who stood near the table. They were 
men of better appearance than the of noXXot. Some of them j 
already affected a half-undress uniform, and most wore 


A VOLUNTEER RENDEZVOUS. 33 

forage-caps with glazed covers, and army buttons, over the 
ears. 

“ Ha ! Clayley ! ” said I, recognizing an old acquaintance. 
This was a young cotton-planter — a free dashing spirit— who 
had sacrificed a fortune at the shrines of Momus and Bacchus. 

“ Why, Haller, old fellow ! glad to see you. How have 
you been ? Think of going with us ? ” 

“ Yes, I have signed. Who is that man ? ” 

“ He’s a creole ; his name is Dubrosc.” 

It was a face purely Norman, and one that would halt the 
wandering eye in any collection. Of oval outline, framed by 
a profusion of black hair, wavy and perfumed. A round 
black eye, spanned by brows arching and glossy. Whiskers 
that belonged rather to the chin, leaving bare the broad 
jawbone, expressive of firmness and resolve. Firm thin 
lips, handsomely mustached ; when parted, displaying teeth 
well set and of dazzling whiteness. A face that might be 
called beautiful ; and yet its beauty was of that negative order 
which we admire in the serpent and the pard. The smile 
was cynical ; the eye cold, yet bright ; but the brightness 
was altogether animal — more the light of instinct than intel- 
lect. A face that presented in its expression a strange ad- 
mixture of the lovely and the hideous — physically fair, 
morally dark — beautiful, yet brutal ! 

From some undefinable cause, I at once conceived for 
this man a strange feeling of dislike. It was he of whom 
Lincoln had spoken, and who was likely to be my rival for 
the captaincy. Was it this that rendered him repulsive } 
No. There was a cause beyond. In him I recognized one 
of those abandoned natures who shrink from all honest labor, 
and live upon the sacrificial fondness of some weak being 
who has been enslaved by their personal attractions. There 
are many such. I have met them in the jardins of Paris ; in 
the casinos of London ; in the cafes of Havana, and the 
“ quadroon ” balls of New Orleans — everywhere in the 
3 


34 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


crowded haunts of the world. I have met them with an in- 
stinct of loathing — an instinct of antagonism. 

“The fellow is likely to be our captain,” whispered 
Clayley, noticing that I observed the man with more than 
ordinary attention. “ By the way,” continued he, “ I don’t 
half like it. I believe he’s an infernal scoundrel.” 

“Such are mj' impressions. But if that be his charac- 
ter, how can he be elected 

“ Oh ! no one here knows another ; and this fellow is a 
splendid swordsman, like all the creoles, you know. He has 
used the trick to advantage, and has created an impression. 
By the bye, now I recollect, you are no slouch at that your- 
self. What are you up for ? ” 

“ Captain,” I replied. 

“ Good ! Then we must go the ‘ whole hog ’ in your favor. 
I have put in for the first lieutenancy, so we won’t run foul 
of each other. Let us ‘ hitch teams.’ ” 

“With all my heart,” said I. 

“You came in with that long-bearded hunter. Is he your 
friend ? ” 

“ He is.” 

“ Then I can tell you that among these fellows he’s a 
“ whole team, and a cross dog under the wagon ” to boot. 
See him ! he’s at it already.” 

I had noticed Lincoln in conversation with several leather- 
legging gentry like himself, whom I knew from their costume 
and appearance to be backwoodsmen. All at once these 
saturnine characters commenced moving about the room, 
and entering into conversation with men whom they had 
not hitherto deigned to notice. 

“They are canvassing,” said Clayley. 

Lincoln, brushing past, whispered in my ear, “Cap’n, I 
understan’ these hyur critters better ’n you kin. Yer must 
mix among ’em — mix and licker — thet’s the idee. 

“ Good advice,” said Clayley ; but if you could only take 


A VOLUNTEER RENDEZVOUS. 35 

the shine out of that fellow at fencing, the thing’s done at 
once. By Jove ! I think you might do it, Haller ! ” 

“ I have made up my mind to try, at all events.” 

“ Not until the last day — a few hours before the election.” 

“You are right. It would be better to wait — I shall take 
your advice. In the meantime let us follow that of Lincoln 
— ‘ mix and licker.’ ” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ” laughed Clayley ; “ let us come, boys 1 ” he 
added, turning to a very thirsty-looking group, “ let’s all 
take a ‘ smile.’ Here, Captain Haller ! allow me to intro- 
duce you ; ” and the next moment I was introduced to a 
crowd of very seedy-looking gentlemen, and the moment 
after we were clinking glasses, and chatting as familiarly as 
if we had been friends of forty years standing. 

****** 4 : 

During the next three days the enrolment continued, and 
the canvass was kept up with energy. The election was 
to take place on the evening of the fourth. 

Meanwhile my dislike for my rival had been strengthened 
by closer observation ; and, as is general in such cases, the 
feeling was reciprocal. 

On the afternoon of the day in question we stood before 
each other, foil in hand, both of us nerved by an intense 
though as yet unspoken^ enmity. This had been observed 
by most of the spectators, who approached and formed a 
circle around us ; all of them highly interested in the result 
— which, they knew, would be an index to the election. 

I’he room was an armory, and all kinds of weapons for 
military practise were kept in it. Each had helped himself 
to his foil. 'One of the weapons was without a button, and 
sharp enough to be dangerous in the hands of an angry 
man. I noticed that my antagonist had chosen this one. 

“ Your foil is not in order ; it has lost the button, has it 
not ? ” I observed. 

“ Ah ! monsieur, pardon. I did not perceive that.” 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


36 

“ A strange oversight,” muttered Clayley, with a signifi- 
cant glance. 

The Frenchman returned the imperfect foil, and took an- 
other. 

“ Have you a choice, monsieur? ” I inquired. 

“ No, thank you ; I am satisfied.” 

By this time every person in the rendezvous had come up, 
and waited with breathless anxiety. We stood face to face, 
more like two men about to engage in a deadly duel than a 
pair of amateurs with blunt foils. My antagonist was evi- 
dently a practised swordsman. I could see that as he came 
to guard. As for myself, the small-sword exercise had been 
a foible of my college days, and for years I had not met 
my match at it ; but just then I was out of practise. 

We commenced unsteadily. Both were excited by un- 
usual emotions, and our first thrusts were neither skilfully 
aimed nor parried. We fenced with the energy of anger, 
and the sparks crackled from the friction of the grazing 
steel. For several minutes it was a doubtful contest ; but I 
grew cooler every instant, while a slight advantage I had 
gained irritated my adversary. At length, by a lucky hit, 
I succeeded in planting the button of my foil upon his 
cheek. A cheer greeted this, and I could hear the voice of 
Lincoln shouting out : 

“ Wal done, cap’n ! whooray for the mountain-men ! ” 

This added to the exasperation of the Frenchman, caus- 
ing him to strike wilder than before; and I found no diffi- 
culty in repeating my former thrust. It was now a sure hit ; 
and after a few passes I thrust my adversary for the third 
time, drawing blood. The cheer rang out louder than be- 
fore. The Frenchman could no longer conceal his mortifi- 
cation ; and, grasping his foil in both hands, he snapped it 
over his knee, with an oath. Then, muttering some word 
about “ better weapons ” and “ another opportunity,” he 
strode off among the spectators. 


A VOLUNTEER RENDEZVOUS. 


37 


Two hours after the combat I was his captain. Clayley 
was elected first lieutenant ; and in a week from that time 
the company was “ mustered ” into the service of the 
United States government, and armed and equipped as an 
independent corps of Rifle Rangers. On the 20th of Jan- 
uary, 1847, ^ noble ship was bearing us over the blue water, 
toward the shores of a hostile land. 




Flying-fish of the Gulf of Mexico. 


CHAPTER IV. 

LIFE ON THE ISLAND OF LOBOS. 

FTER calling at Brazos Santiago, we 
were ordered to land upon the island 
of Lobos, fifty miles north of Vera 
Cruz. This was to be our “ drill 
rendezvous.” We soon reached the 
island. Detachments from several 
regiments debarked together ; the jungle was attacked ; and in 
a few hours the green grove had disappeared, and in its place 
stood the white pyramids of canvas with their floating flags. 
It was the work of a day. When the sun rose over Lobos it 
was a desert isle, thickly covered with a jungle of mangrove, 
manzanel, and icaco-trees, green as an emerald. How 
changed the scene ! When the moon looked down upon this 
same islet it seemed as if a warlike city had sprung sud- 
denly out of the sea, with a navy at anchor in front of its 
bannered walls ! 

In a few days six full regiments had encamped upon the 

38 



LIFE ON THE ISLAND OF LOBOS. 39 

hitherto uninhabited island, and nothing was heard but the 
voice of war. 

These regiments were all “ raw ” ; and my duty, with 
others, consisted in “ licking them into shape.” It was 
drill, drill, from morning till night ; and, by early tattoo, I 
was always glad to crawl into my tent and go to sleep — such 
sleep as a man can get among scorpions, lizards, and soldier- 
crabs ; for the little islet seemed to have within its bound- 
aries a specimen of every reptile that came safely out of the 
ark. 

The 2 2d of February being Washington’s birthday, I 
could not get to bed as usual. I was compelled to accept 
an invitation, obtained by Clayley, to the tent of Major 
Twing, where they were — using Clayley’s own words — “to 
have a night of it.” 

After tattoo we set out for the major’s marquee, which lay 
near the center of the islet, in a coppice of caoutchouc- 
trees. We had no difficulty in finding it, guided by the 
jingling of glasses and the mingling of many voices in 
boisterous laughter. 

As we came near, we could perceive that the marquee, had 
been enlarged by the tucking the flaps in front, with the addi- 
tion of a flv stretched over an extra ridge-pole. Several 
pieces of rough plank, spirited away from the ships, resting 
upon empty bread-barrels, formed the table. Upon this 
might be recognized every variety of bottles, glasses, and cups- 
Open boxes of sardines, piles of ship-biscuits, and seg- 
ments of cheese, filled the intervening spaces. Freshly- 
drawn corks and glistening fragments of lead were strewed 
around, while a number of dark conical objects under the 
table told that not a few champagne bottles were already 
“ down among the dead men.” 

On each side of the table was a row of colonels, cap- 
tains, subalterns, and doctors seated without regard to rank 
or age, according to the order in which they had “ dropped 


40 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


in.” There were also some naval officers, and a sprinkling 
of strange, half-sailor-looking men, the skippers of trans- 
port brigs, steamboats, etc. ; for Twing was a thorough re- 
publican in his entertainments ; besides, the day leveled all 
distinctions. 

At the head of the table was the major himself — one of 
those wiry, hard-headed, hard-drinking devils, who always 
carried a large pewter flask suspended from his shoulders 
by a green string ; and without this flask no one ever saw 
Major Twing. He could not have stuck to it more closely 
had it been his badge of rank. It was not unusual, on the 
route, to hear some wearied officer exclaim : “ If I only had 
a pull at old Twing’s pewter!” and “ 6qual to Twing’s 
flask” was an expression which stamped the quality of any 
liquor as superfine. Such was one of the major’s peculiar- 
ities, though by no means the only one. 

As my friend and I made our appearance under the fly, 
the company was in high glee, everyone enjoying himself 
with that freedom from restraint of rank peculiar to the 
American army-service. Clayley was a great favorite with 
the major, and at once caught his eye. 

“Ha, Clayley! that you? Walk in with your friend. 
Find seats there, gentlemen.” 

“Captain Haller — Major Twing,” said Clayley, introduc- 
ing me. 

“Happy to know you, captain. Can you find seats 
there? No. Come up this way. Cudjo, boy ! run -over to 
Colonel Marshall’s tent, and steal a couple of stools. Adge ! 
twist the neck off that bottle. Where’s the screw? Hang 
that screw ? Where is it anyhow ? ” 

“Never mind the screw, mage,” cried the adjutant ; I’ve 
got a patent universal here.” So saying, this gentleman 
held out a champagne bottle in his left hand, and with a 
down-stroke of his right cut the neck off, as square as if it 
had been filed ! 


LIFE ON THE ISLAND OF LOBOS. 


41 


“ Nate ! ” ejaculated Hennessy, an Irish officer, who sat 
near the head of the table and who evidently admired that 
sort of thing. 

“ What we call a Kentucky corkscrew,” said the adjutant 
coolly. “ It offers a double advantage. It saves time, and 
you get the wine clear of ” 

“ My respects, gentlemen ! Captain Haller — Mr. Clayley.” 

“ Thank you, Major Twing. To you, sir.” 

“ Ha ! the stools at last ! Only one ! What the deuce, 
Cudjo ! Come, gentlemen, squeeze yourselves up this way. 
Here, Clayley, old boy ; here’s a cartridge box. Adge ! 
up-end that box. So — give us your fist, old fellow ; how 
are you ? Sit down, captain ; sit down. Cigars, there ! ” 

As soon as we had got seated, several voices were heard 
vociferating, The song ! the song ! round with the song ! ” 
and I learnt that the order of the night was “ a song, a story, 
or half a dozen bottles of champagne.” 

“ Sibley’s turn next ! ” shouted one. 

“ Sibley ! Sibley ! ” cried several voices. 

“ Well, gentlemen,” said the officer called upon, a young 
South Carolinian, “ as I make no pretensions to singing, I 
will endeavor to clear the forfeit by a story.” 

“ Good ! a story, by all means — nothing like variety.” 

“ Liftinant, take a trifle of the squeezed lemon before ye 
begin.” 

“ Thank you, Captain Hennessy. Your health, sir ! ” 





Tortoise and Rattlesnake, Isle of Lobos. 


CHAPTER V. 

LIEUTENANT SIBLEY’s STORY OF A GEORGIA HOTEL. 

ELL, gentlemen, about 
six months ago I had 
occasion to make a jour- 
ney to Pensacola on 
horseback. My road from South 
Carolina, of course, lay through 
the State of Georgia. 

“ It is well known, gentlemen, 
that there are large tracts in the 
territory of onr southern neighbor 
that have proved very ungrateful 
to the labors of the husbandman. 
These districts are, in consequence, 
but sparsely settled, and ill-provided with the necessaries 
of life.” 

Here the lieutenant looked significantly towards the major, 
who was a thoroughbred Georgian. 

“ On the third day of my journey I had vidden about 
42 




LIEUTENANT SIBLEY’S STORY. 


43 

twenty miles through one of these tracts — a dry pine barren 
— without having caught the first glimpse of a human habita> 
tion. I was faint with hunger and thirst ; so was my horse, 
who stretched out his neck and moaned piteously, as each 
new, and apparently illimitable, prospect of the hot, sandy 
road opened before us. There was no help for it, however ; 
so we jogged on painfully — both of us keeping a sharp look 
ahead. You cannot fancy my delight when, on turning a 
corner, I saw before me a large and substantial log house, 
with a pine mast stuck up before the door, and a broad 
swinging sign, upon which was legible, in bold characters, 
the word ‘ Hotel.’ 

“ I rubbed my eyes, and then shaded them with my hand, 
to make sure it was not the mirage^ which frequently makes 
its appearance upon these sandy plains. But, no ; it was a 
house, and, better still, a hotel. 

“ I straightened myself in the saddle. My horse whin- 
nied and stepped out cheerily. “ Come,” said I, patting 
him on the neck, “ we’re through it at last, old fellow ; you’ll 
soon be up to your ears in the best of Georgia corn, and 
I — ” Here the anticipated enjoyment of ham and eggs, fried 
chicken, strong coffee, hot biscuit and waffles, deprived me 
of the power of speech, and I rode up to the “ hotel ” in 
silence. \ 

“ As I got nearer the Eouse, it began to look weather- 
beaten and desolate-like, and I was growing fearful that it 
might be uninhabited ; but, no — there sat the landlord in 
the porch, and his two sons. “It’s all right,” thought I ; 
so I rode up, and drew bridle in front of the door. 

“ So far, the three individuals whom I had observed in 
the porch— three sallow, dry-looking chaps, in their shirt- 
sleeves — had not moved an inch. I am not certain that 
they even changed the direction of their eyes. A couple of 
gaunt, yellow dogs, that lay on the stoop, remained equally 
motionless. 


44 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ ‘ Come/ thought I, ‘ this is cool for people who keep a 
house of entertainment. They ought to know from the 
direction in which I have come, that I must be both hungry 
and tired, and likely to put up for the night. They might 
offer to take one’s horse, I should think.’ But no one 
stirred. 

“ I began to suspect that, after all, the house might not 
be a tavern, as I had at first supposed ; and I again looked 
up at the sign. Enough — the word ‘ Hotel ’ w'as there in 
large letters. 

Can I stop here for the night?’ I inquired at length. 

“ I waited for an answer, but none came. I repeated the 
question in a louder and more imperious tone. 

You kin if yer like, stren-ger,’ replied the oldest of the 
three, but without moving a muscle except those of his 
mouth. 

“ ‘ Have you got any corn ? ’ I inquired, intending to make 
sure of something for my horse before alighting, as the 
house, on a nearer inspection, looked naked and empty. 

“ ‘Got any corn ? ’ echoed the same speaker as before. 

“ ‘ Yes,’ said I, ‘ corn.’ 

“ ‘ No, we hain’t got any/ was the reply, 

“ ‘ Well, have you got any fodder, then ? ’ 

“ ‘ Got any fodder ? ’ 

“ ‘ Yes — fodder/ 

“ ‘ No, we hain’t got any.’ 

“ ‘ This is bad,’ thought I ; ‘ my poor horse — I will have 
to turn him loose, and I might as well tie him up for that 
matter,’ I continued to soliloquize, as, on looking around, 
I could not see a blade of grass within the circuit of a mile ! 

‘ I had best hitch him to the post, take a hurried snack 
myself, and then ride on to the next house ; but first let me 
see what they can give me to eat.’ 

“ All the time I was occupied with these reflections the 
three men remained silent and motionless, except when ona 


LIEUTENANT SIBLEY’s STORY. 45 

or the other of them would bring his hand down with a 
smart slap over his cheek, or along his thigh, or behind his 
ear, as though one and all of them were afflicted with the 
malady of St. Vitus. 

“ I was at first startled by these demonstrations ; but 
upon further observation I perceived that my saturnine 
friends were only killing mosquitoes! 

“ ‘ Have you got any ham and eggs ? ” I asked after a 
pause. 

“‘Got any ham and eggs? ’ echoed the original speaker? 
with an emphasis that clearly betokened surprise. 

“‘Yes — ham and eggs,’ repeated I. 

“ ‘ No, we hain’t got any.’ 

“ ‘ A pity ; I am fond of ham and eggs. Have you any 
chickens, then ? ’ 

“ ‘ Chickens ? ’ 

“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘chickens.’ 

“ ‘ No, we hain’t got any chickens — nery chicken.’ 

“ ‘ Well, have you got any meat ? ’ 

“ ‘ Got any meat ? ’ 

“‘Yes — any sort of meat — beef, pork, mutton, or veal 
I’m not particular — I’m hungry.’ 

“ ‘ No, we hain’t got any.’ 

“ ‘ Have you any bread, then ? ’ 

“ ‘ Any bread ? ’ 

“ < Yes — bread — a piece of bread and a glass of water. 
That to a hungry man is a banquet.’ 

“ ‘ No, we hain’t got no bread.’ 

“ ‘ Well, my friend, have you got anything to eat of any 
kind?’ 

“ ‘ Anything to eat of any kind ? ’ 

“ ‘ Yes, anything. I’m as hungry as a wolf.’ 

“‘No, we hain’t got nothing to eat of any kind — nery 
thing.’ 

“ ‘ Can you give my horse some water, and I’ll ride on ? * 


46 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ ‘ We hain’t none drawed, stren-ger; but the crick ain’t 
more’n a kupple o’ miles ahead — yer kin git water than’ 

“ ‘ Good gracious ! ’ I ejaculated, involuntarily ; ‘ no 
meat, no bread, no corn, no water, no nothing ! Look here, 
old fellow ! will you tell me how in thunder you do here, 
anyhow ? ’ 

“ Not at all put out by the question, the old chap looked 
up sideways, and replied : 

“ ‘ Very well^ I thank ye, stren-ger ; how de yer deo yourself t ’ 

“ I gave a violent wrench at the bridle, which brought my 
horse round like a pivot ; and digging the spurs into his 
sides, I headed him at the road. But the poor beast did 
not need any driving ; for, whether he had been satisfied by 
his own inspection of the place, or whether he had under- 
stood the conversation, he broke into a sort of despairing 
gallop, and did not stop until we had reached the top of a 
long hill. Here I had the curiosity to turn round in the 
saddle and look back ; and, to my astonishment, the three 
men were still seated just as I had left them ; and 1 really 
believe that they are sitting there to this day ! Captain 
Hennessy, I’ll trouble you again.” 

“ With all the pleasure of life — here’s at you, liftinant ! ” 

“ Fill up, gentlemen ! Fill up ! ” shouted the sharp, hard 
voice of the major, as soon as the laughter had subsided ; 
“ fill up — there’s a basket left.” 

“ Ay, and when that’s through. Old Blowhard here has 
another stowed away in the lockers of his steamer.” 

“ Ay, a dozen of ’em for such a day as this,” said the 
transport master, who was known among the offcers at Lobos 
as Old Blowhard.” 

“ Speaking of the day, allow me, gentlemen, to propose a 
sentiment, which until now, we have by some accident 
overlooked.” 

This came from a tall gray-haired officer of venerable 
aspect. 


LIEUTENANT SIBLEY’s STORY. 


47 


“ Sentiment from Colonel Harding ! ” 

“ Colonel Harding’s sentiment ! ” 

“ Fill up for the colonel’s toast ; pass that champagne.” 

'‘'‘The memory of the immortat man whose birthday we cele- 
brater 

This toast was drunk standing — all heads uncovered — 
and in perfect silence. The riot that rang but a moment 
ago through the crowded canvas was hushed, out of respect 
for the memory of the illustrious dead. The silence was 
only momentary. Like waves for awhile baffled, and back 
returning, ^e sounds of revelry again broke forth. Above 
the din of conversation, several voices were heard vociferat- 
ing— 

“ A story from Twing. A back-hit from Georgia ! ” 

“Well, gentlemen,” responded the major, “ I’m ready as 
soon as you have all filled ; I don’t like to be interrupted.” 

“ Fill up, gentlemen ! ” continued he. “ Adge, out with 
some corks ! Cudjo, where’s the screw ? Hang that screw • 
I believe it’s sunk into the sand ; look out for your purses, 
gentlemen ; if you drop them here, they’re gone. I’ve lost 
several valuable articles in this cussed sandhole.” 

“ Mine is as low as it can possibly get,” cried a voice. 

“ Never mind that screw, mage,” said Hillis, the adju- 
tant, who by this time had broken — Kentucky fashion — the 
necks of several bottles, and was pouring out their foaming 
contents. 

“ Now, gentlemen,” cried the major, after swallowing a 
glass of champagne, “ I’m at your service.” 

Silence was at once re-established, and the whole company 
sat eying their host with interested looks. The major was 
well known to be a sharp hand — a regular “ Georgia Yankee ” 
— and every one expected to hear the South Carolinian re- 
ceive a Roland for his Oliver. The Georgian began. 




CHAPTER VI. 


MAJOR TWING’S story OF THE GUYAS-CUTIS. 




INE, gentlemen, is also 
a traveling story : ” 
here the major looked 
significantly towards 

Sibley. 

“ Many long years ago, when I 
was a wild young man, I was 
journeying to the city of Washington in company with a 
friend — a Georgian boy like myself. We went, as thousands 
have gone before and since, to try our luck at office hunting. 
You are all well aware, gentlemen, that the road from Georgia 
to Washington passes through the Palmetto State ; a state 
distinguished for the fertility of its soil, as well as for the 
wealth, chivalry, and intelligence of its sons.” Here the 
major winked knowingly at the company with one eye, while 
he kept the other fixed upon the South Carolinian. 

“ I thought myself a smart traveler, gentlemen ; but, com- 
pared with my companion, I was as green as a blade of 
48 


MAJOR TWING’s story OF THE GUYAS-CUTIS. 49 

spring grass. He was naturally sharp, but experience had 
polished his wits to the keenness of a cambric needle. His 
name was Cobb — Wiley Cobb. 

“We started from home on a capital'of three hundred 
dollars. It was all we could rake together. But we had a 
couple of stout Georgia ponies ; and this, we concluded, 
would be enough to put us through to Washington and 
back. 

“ ‘ If we’re stumped,’ said Cobb, ‘ we can sell the cattle.’ 

“Unfortunately, before entering the Palmetto State, it was 
our luck to pass through the town of Augusta, on the 
Georgia side, where we halted to feed. Augusta had always 
been considered ‘a brisk little place.’ We found it so. 
Not being in a great hurry, we remained over night and the 
next day. We had fallen in with some very agreeable ac- 
quaintances. We got to playing first at ninepenny poker ; 
then quarter-dollar loo ; then brag ; and finally, our Augusta 
friends introduced us to the interesting game of faro. 
We played all night ; and by daybreak on the morning of the 
second day had deposited our three hundred dollars in the 
‘ bank,’ where they remained. 

“ ‘ What’s to be done ? ’ said I. 

“ ‘ I’m thinking,” answered Cobb. 

Sell the ponies and start back ? ’ suggested I. 

“ ‘ No such thing! ’ sharply responded Cobb. 

“ ‘ What better can we do ? ’ I asked. ‘ We have no 
money — we can’t go on to Washington — what can we do but 
slope home again ? ” 

“ ‘ What have you got in your saddle-bags } ’ inquired 
my friend, without heeding my last interrogatory. 

“ ‘ A shirt, a pair of pistols, a plug of tobacco, and a 
bowie,’ was my reply. 

“ ‘ We must sell the bowie first,’ said Cobb ; it “ will pay 
our tavern bill, and get us out of this infernal hole.’ 

“ ‘ And what next ? On to Washington ? ’ I inquired. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


SO 

“ ‘ Of course,’ said Cobb ; ‘ we would look wise turning 
back : we would be the standing joke of the county,’ added 
he. 

“ ‘ But how can* we travel without funds ? ’ I asked. 

“ ‘ That we shall have to find out,’ said Cobb, with a look 
as cheerful and happy as if he had had relays and horses all 
along to Washington, and his bill paid at every tavern upon 
the road. 

“ ‘ I have an acquaintance,’ continued he, ‘ at the end 
of the first stage from here ; we can stop all night with him 
— that won’t cost anything ; beyond that, we must trust to 
the hospitality of the planters. I think we can get through 
South Carolina handsomely ; good, generous fellows the 
South Carolinians.’” Here the major again looked signifi- 
cantly across the table. “ ‘ The danger is, we may stick in 
Turpentine State. We must travel through it on the pro- 
ceeds of your pistols. But come, let us first dispose of the 
bowie, and get out of this sharpers’ nest.’ 

“ As Cobb was my senior, and, in my estimation, a great 
genius, I of course acquiesced. He sold the bowie-knife to 
one of our gambling friends for six dollars ; the tavern bill 
was liquidated, leaving a few shillings in our joint purse ,- 
and with this we took the road through South Carolina. 

“At the end of the first day we stopped with Cobb’s 
friend, and were hospitably entertained. Cobb felt a strong 
inclination to borrow from him, but could not bring himself 
to confess the cause of our being without funds. 

“We left his friend’s house therefore, after an excellent 
breakfast, our horses well fed and curried, but without any 
increase of our finances. On the contrary, we had given a 
quarter-dollar to the ‘ darkie’ who had saddled our ponies. 

“ We were now fairly e/i route — traveling through, to both 
of us, a terra incognita, 

“ That night we stopped at a planter’s house. I do not 
know what Cobb told the planter as we were preparing to 


MAJOR TWING’S story OF THE GUYAS-CUTIS. 5 1 

leave in the morning ; but I heard the latter remark some- 
what sneeringly as we got into our saddles, ‘ It ain’t usual 
for folks to travel through these parts without money,’ and 
then there was a half-stifled, angry-like ejaculation, followed 
by a hissing through his teeth of words which would have 
sounded badly in polite ears. 

“ ‘ Rather an inhospitable sort of a chap,’ whispered I 
as we rode off. 

“ ‘ Deuced inhospitable ! ’ said Cobb ; ‘ especially for a 
South Carolinian. But he’s an exception, I guess.’ 

“ And he zaas an exception ; for the next place we 
stopped at, they turned to and blackguarded us outright, call- 
ing us ‘ impostors.’ and ‘Georgia Yankees’; and the next 
after that, the landlord of the house, which was a country 
tavern, threatened to levy upon our saddle-bags. This he 
certainly would have done, had not Cobb told him very sig- 
nificantly that ‘ they contained only a pair of pistols that 
were loaded, and might go off.’ Saying this, Cobb took 
out the pistols, and handed one of them to me ; then cock- 
ing his own, he told the landlord he ‘ might have the saddle- 
bags now, as they were empty.’ 

“ But Cobb was a boy of six feet two in his stockings, 
with a pair of fierce whiskers, and an eye as black as a coal ; 
and the landlord concluded to let the bags hang where they 
were ; so we leaped into our saddles and rode off. 

‘ This will never do, Harry,’ said Cobb as we jogged 
leisurely along. 

“ ‘ Never,’ said I. 

“ We must hit upon some plan to raise the wind,’ contin- 
ued he. 

“ ‘ I wish we could,’ said I. 

Think of something,’ said he. 

“ ‘ I’ll try,” said I ; and I commenced turning over in my 
mind every plan I could think of that would be likely to 
relieve us from our difficulty. 


5 ^ 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ But ‘ raising the wind ’ by the mere process of thought 
is an achievement which has puzzled sharper intellects than 
mine ; and I was about abandoning the twentieth project that 
had offered itself to my mind, when Cobb, who was riding 
some distance in advance, suddenly checked his horse, and, 
wheeling round in the saddle, with a triumphant gesture, 
shouted out : 

“ ‘ Harry, I have it ! ^ 

“ ‘ Good ! ’ cried I. 

“ ‘ I’ve treed the varmint ! ’ continued he. 

“ ‘ You have ? ’ said I. 

“ ‘ Like a knife ! ’ said he. 

“ ‘ I am glad of it,’ said I ; ‘ but how ? ’ 

“ ‘ Never mind ; I’ll tell you at night. I haven’t got the 
thing straightened out yet. How far do you suppose we are 
from Columbia } ’ inquired he. 

“ ‘ About twenty miles, I should think. We have come 
five, and they said it was twenty-five from the tavern.’ 

“‘Well, then, ride slowly,’ said Cobb. ‘We must not 
get there before dark. What sized place is it ? ’ 

“ ‘ I haven’t an idea,’ replied I. ‘ It ought to be a good 
chunk of a place, though — it’s the state capital. 

“ ‘ So it is — you’re right — it’ll do,’ said he ; and we 
rode on in silence, Cobb buried in profound meditation, 
maturing his plans, and I dying with curiosity to know 
them. 

“ About half an hour after dark we entered the town, and 
rode up the streets ; Cobb looked inquiringly into the differ- 
ent stores as we passed. 

“ ‘ Here’s the very thing! ’ ejaculated he, pulling up in 
front of a shoe-shop and getting off his horse. 

“ He entered the shop. I could see by his gesticulations 
to the owner of the establishment that he was in treaty for a 
large empty shoe-box which stood in the middle of the 
store. All that I could hear was the following * 


MAJOR TWING’S story OF THE GUYAS-CUTIS. 53 

“ ‘ After you have made the hole, you may nail down the 
lid, and paint the letters upon it. Here they are.’ 

“ Saying this, he took up a scrap of paper, and, after writ- 
ing some words upon it, handed it to the storekeeper. 

“ ‘ I’ll send a dray for it in half an hour,’ continued he, 
as he paid for the box ; and, bidding the man good night, 
came out and got into his saddle again. We then continued 
our way to the principal hotel of the place, where we drew 
up and dismounted. 

“ ‘ I’ll be back in an hour, Harry,’ said Cobb, throwing 
me his bridle ; ‘ in the mean time take your supper, engage 
a snug room, and wait for me. DorC t register till I come — 
I’ll attend to that.’ So saying, he disappeared down the 
street. 

“ Agreeably to his instructions, I did not register our names ; 
but, as the supper-gong rang before Cobb’s return, I walked 
into the room and ate supper — heartily, too, for I had not 
tasted victuals since morning. I was then shown to my 
room, where I waited patiently for the appearance of my 
friend. I was still conjecturing how the supper was to be 
paid for, when the door opened and Cobb entered. He was 
not alone. A couple of ‘ darkies ’ followed at his heels, 
carrying the box that I had .seen him purchase, upon the lid 
of which was now painted in large, bold letters : 

“ ‘ THE ViTONDERFUL GUYAS-CUTIS ! ’ 

Underneath was an oblong hole, or slit, newly chiseled in 
the wood. 

“ Cobb held in his hand a broad sheet of paper. This, as 
soon as the darkies had gone out of the room, he spread up- 
on the table, and, pointing to it, triumphantly exclaimed — 

“ ‘ There, now, Harry : that's it ! ’ 

“ ‘ / what it I ’ asked I. 

“ ‘ Read for yourself, old fellow I ’ cried he. 

“ I commenced reading : 


54 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ ‘ THE WONDERFUL GUYAS-CUTIS ! | 

i 

“ ‘ Caught in the Wilds of Oregon ! 7 tear the center boundary | 
of 54° 40’ ! ! ’ 

“ This was in large capitals. Then followed the descrip- 1 
tion in smaller letters : ‘ I 

I 

“ ‘ This remarkable animal, hitherto unknown to the naturalists, i 
possesses all the intelligence of the human, combined with the ferocity 
of the tiger, and the agility of the ourang-outang ! He is of a bright 
sky-blue color, with eleven stripes upon his body, and one more round 
his nose, which makes the even dozen ; and ne’er a one of them alike ! ! j 

“ ‘ In his rage, he has been known to carry Indians up to the tops of the I 
highest trees, and there leave them to perish with hunger, thirst, and | 
cold ; which accounts satisfactorily for the uncivilized nature of the red | 
man ! ! 

“ ‘ The highly-intelligent citizens of Columbia are respectfully informed I 
that this wonderful quadruped has arrived among them, and will be ex- 1 
hibited this evening, Tuesday, at the Minerva Rooms, at the hour* of ' 
eight o’clock. Admittance, 25 cents ! ’ 

“ ‘ But, my dear Wiley,’ said I, now, for the first time, ! 
catching the idea of Cobb’s project, ‘ you don’t intend , 

“ ‘ But I do^ though,’ interrupted he ; ‘and I will — that’s 
as certain as my name’s Wiley Cobb, of the State of Georgy.’ 

“ ‘ But you do not really think you can gull the intellig- ' 
ent people — ? ’ 

“ ‘ Bah ! intelligent people ! It’s plain, Harry, you don’t 1 
know the world,’ said Cobb contemptuously. 

“ ‘ And what part do you expect me to take in the play ? ’ s 
I asked. I 

“ ‘ Nothing but to keep in this room to-morrow, and see 
that nobody peeps into that box.” 

“ ‘ But at night ? ’ 

“ ‘ At night you will stand at the door of the Minerva 
Hooms, take the money, and, when you hear me groan and 
shake the chain, run in behind the screen — that’s all.’ 


MAJOR TWING’S story OF THE GUYAS-CUTIS. 55 

“ Begfnning to look upon the thing as a good joke, I 
promised faithfully to follow Cobb’s instructions ; not with- 
out some disagreeable anticipations that both he and I 
would spend the following night in the Columbia jail. 

“Next morning Cobb was up at an early hour : and, after 
moaning piteously, and groaning in the most hideous and 
frightful manner, and talking at intervals into the box, as — 
‘Be still, Guy!’ ‘ Down, Guy! down !’ — he left the room, 
bidding me keep a sharp look-out. 

“ As soon as he had gone I heard a considerable shuffling 
and w^hispering outside the door ; and presently a darkie 
looked in, and asked me if I wanted anything. 

“ ‘ Not anything,’ said I ; ‘ don’t come in ! ’ 

“ The darkie drew back his head with a look of terror, and 
pulled the door to behind him. 

“ Shortly after, the whispering recommenced and the 
door again opened. This time it was the landlord of the 
hotel, whose curiosity had brought him up to ‘see the 
elephant.’ 

“ ‘ It’s a tarnation’d fierce critter that,” said he, putting 
his head inside the door, but still holding on to the handle. 

“ ‘ Dreadful ! ’ said I. 

“ ‘ Could I not have a peep } ’ inquired he. 

“ ‘ It’s against the rules,’ answered I ; ‘ besides, a stranger 
makes him savage.’ 

“ ‘ Oh, it does ! does it ? ’ said he apologizingly. 

“ ‘ Terrible ! ’ said I. 

“ ‘ You’ll have a good house, I think,’ said he, after a short 
pause. 

“ ‘ I hope so,’ said I. 

“ ‘The bills is out. Mr. Van Amburgh was about putty 
early this mornin’.’ 

“ ‘ Mr. Van Amburgh ? ’ interrogated I. 

“ ‘ Yes ; Mr. Van Amburgh — your partner.’ 

“ ‘ Oh yes ! Mr. Van Amburgh, my partner,” I chimed in, 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


56 

as I saw that this must be an alias of my friend Cobb. 

‘ But Mr. Van Amburgh did not put out the bills himself.? ’ 

“ I said this to lead the landlord’s thoughts upon a new 
trail, and cover the mistake I had made. 

“ ‘ Oh — no ; of course not,’ replied he ; ‘ he hired a boy.’ 

“ ‘ Certainly — that was right,’ I added. 

“ ‘ Breakfast ’ll be ready in a minute ; ye’ll come down ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh, of course.’ 

“ At this, Boniface took himself off, to my great satisfac- 
tion. 

“ Cobb now returned, bringing with him about six feet of a - 
log-chain, done up in paper. I 

“ After repeating his groaning and growling we descended 
to breakfast — Cobb having first carefully locked the door 
and put the key in his pocket. 

“ We were evidently objects of great interest at the break- 
fast-table — Cobb calling me ‘ Mr. Wolfe,’ and I addressing 
him as ‘Mr. Van Amburgh.’ The servants waited upon us | 
with delighted attention. 

“ After breakfast we returned to the room, when Cobb i 
again went through his groaning rehearsal, and shortly after 
left me. 

“ The groaning he repeated at intervals during the day ; * 

upon each succeeding occasion louder and more terrific than 
before. 1 

“ Night came at length ; and with our box, covered up in 
one of the landlord’s bed-quilts, we started for the Minerva 
Rooms, which I found already fitted up with a running : 
screen, and brilliantly lighted with candles. Cobb had the 
box and chain carried behind the screen, while I remained 
at the door to look after the treasury. We had no tickets, 
each one paying his or her ‘ quarter,’ and passing in. 

“ In a short time the room was full of ladies, gentlemen, 
and children ; tradesmen and their wives ; merchants and 
their families ; young bucks and their sweethearts, and even 


MAJOR TWING’S story OF THE GUYAS-CUTIS. 57 

a number of the intelligent members of the state assembly ! 
Expectation was on tiptoe to see the ‘Wonderful Guyas- 
cutis. ’ 

“ At length a low moaning was heard behind the screen. 

“ ‘ Down, Guy ! down ! Still, dog, still ! ’ cried a voice in 
hoarse, commanding accents. 

“ The people had now all arrived, and began to stamp 
and clap their hands, and exhibit the usual symptoms of 
impatience, crying out at intervals, ‘ The Guyas-cutis ! the 
Guyas-cutis ! ’ 

“ ‘ Bring him out, Mr. Showman ! trot him out ! ’ 

“ ‘ Let us see the savage varmint ! ’ 

“ The Guyas-cutis growled fearfully. 

“ ‘ Give him a bone ! ’ cried one. 

“ ‘ Go it, old fifty-four forty ! ’ exclaimed another. 

“ ‘ The whole or none ! ’ shouted a third. 

“ ‘ Fifty-four forty, or fight ! ’ cried a fourth. 

“ ‘ Go it, old K. Polk ! ’ from a distant part of the room. 

“ At this the audience became convulsed with laughter. 
The groaning grew louder and more terrible, and Cobb’s 
voice was heard in hoarse accents apostrophizing the Guyas- 
cutis. Then was heard a struggle behind the screen, fol- 
lowed by the rattling of a chain. 

“ This was my cue. Putting on a look of terror — as I had 
been instructed by Cobb — I rushed up the open space be- 
tween the spectators, and pushed in behind the curtain. I 
stole a glance backward as I entered, and saw that the 
audience had already caught the alarm. Some of the people 
had risen to their feet, and stood pale and trembling ! Be- 
hind the screen, Cobb was running to and fro, scraping the 
sanded floor, rattling the chain, and chiding an imaginary 
object in the most threatening accents. He was in his shirt- 
sleeves, and streams of what appeared to be blood were 
running over his face, neck, and bosom ! 

“ ‘ Down, savage, down ! ’ cried Cobb. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


58 

“ ‘ Boo-boo ! bow-wow ! growled the Guyas-cutis. 

“ ‘ Oh, Mr. Wolfe ! ' cried Cobb ; ‘ come here, help, help, 
or he’ll be off ! ’ 

“ ‘ Hold on to him ! ’ shouted I, in a loud voice, ‘ hold on ! ’ 

“ ‘ Bow-oow ! wow-awow ! ” roared the Guyas-cutis. 

“ ‘ Help ! help ! ’ cried Cobb. 

“ ‘ Hold on ! ’ shouted 1. 

“ At this moment Cobb seized the chain in both hands, 
and, after giving it a fierce rattle, rushed in front of the 
screen, shouting in a voice of thunder : 

“ ‘ Save yourselves^ gentlemen ! Save your wives and chil- - 
dren ! The Guyas-cutis is loose ! 

“Gentlemen,” said the major, drawing a long breath, 

“ it’s more than I can do to describe the scene that followed. 
In less than two minutes the room was empty; and when 
Cobb and myself reached the street, there was not a soul — 
man, woman, or child — to be seen ! We hurried to the 
hotel, and ordered our horses to be saddled with all de- i 
spatch — Cobb telling the landlord that the Guyas-cutis had 
taken to the fields, and we must pursue him on horseback. 
While our horses were being saddled, we settled the land- | 
lord’s bill out of our newly acquired funds. Starting at a I 
brisk gallop, we did not draw bridle until we had put twenty 
miles between us and the good city of Columbia. Then we ■ 
halted, and counted our receipts, which amounted to — how : 
much, Mr. Cobb. 

“ Sixty-six dollars seventy-five cents, to a figger,” said a 
tall, swarthy personage, who sat some way down the table, ? 
and whose dark, saturnine countenance would never have j 
betrayed him as the hero of the story ; but it was he indeed ; 
and peals of laughter followed the discovery. 
****** 

“ To the major, the major and his story ! ” shouted several 
voices. 

At that moment the report of a musket was heard without 


MAJOR TWING’s story OF THE GUYAS-CUTIS. 59 

the tent, and simultaneously a bullet whistled through the 
canvas. It knocked the foraging-cap from the head of 
Captain Hennessy, and, striking a decanter, shivered the 
glass into a thousand pieces ! 

“ Adivilish nate shot that, I don’t care who fired it,” said 
Hennessy, coolly picking up his cap. “ An inch of a miss 
— good as a mile,” added he, thrusting his thumb into the 
bullet-hole. 

By this time every officer present was upon his feet, most 
of them rushing towards the front of the marquee. A dozen 
voices called out together : 

“ Who fired that gun ? ” 

There was no answer, and several plunged into the thicket 
in pursuit. The chapparal was dark and silent, and these 
returned after a fruitless search. 

“ Some soldier, whose musket has gone off by accident,” 
suggested Colonel Harding. “The fellow has run away, to 
avoid being put under arrest.” 

“ Come, gentlemen, take your sates again,” said Hen- 
nessy ; “ let the poor divil slide — yez may be thankful it 
wasn't a shell. ” 

“ You, captain, have most cause to be grateful for the 
character of the missile.” 

“By my sowl, I don’t know about that! — a shell or a 
twenty-four would have grazed me all the same ; but a big 
shot would have been mighty inconvanient to the head of 
my friend Haller, here ! ” 

This was true. My head was nearly in range ; and, had 
the shot been a large one, it would have struck me upon 
the left temple. As it was, I felt the “ wind ” of the bullet 
and already began to suffer a painful sensation over the eye. 

“I’m mighty curious to know which of us the fellow has 
missed, captain,” said Hennessy, turning to me as he spoke. 

“ If it were not a ‘ bull ’ I should say I hope neither of 


6o 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


us. I’m inclined to think with Colonel Harding that it was 
altogether an accident.” 

“ By the powers ! an ugly accident, too, that has spoiled 
five dollars’ worth of an illigant cap, and a pint of as good 
brandy as ever was mixed with hot water and lemon-juice.’ 

“ Plenty left, captain,” cried the major. “ Come, gentlemen, 
don’t let this damp us ; fill up ! fill up ! Adge, out with 'the 
corks ! Cudjo, where’s the screw ? — confound that screw ! 

“Never mind the screw, mage,” cried the adjutant, re- 
peating his old trick upon the neck of a fresh bottle, which, 
nipped off under the wire, fell upon a heap of others that 
had preceded it. 

And the wine again foamed and sparkled, and glasses 
circled round, and the noisy revelry waxed as loud as ever. 
The incident of the shot was soon forgotten. Songs were 
sung, and stories told, and toasts drunk ; and with song and 
sentiment, and toast and story, and the wild excitement of 
wit and wine, the night waned away. With many of those 
young hearts, bold with hope and burning with ambition, it 
was the last “Twenty-second” they would ever celebrate. 
Half of them never hailed another. 




CHAPTER VII. 

A SKELETON ADVENTURE. 

T was past midnight when I withdrew 
from the scene of wassail. Clayley 
was one of those tireless spirits who 
could “ drink all night till broad day- 
light ; ” and, as he preferred remain- 
ing for some time longer, I walked out alone. My blood 
was flushed and I strolled down upon the beach, to en- 
joy the cool fresh breeze that was blowing in from the 
Mexican Sea. 

The scene before me was one of picturesque grandeur, 
and I paused a moment to gaze upon it. The wine even 
heightened its loveliness to an illusion. 

The full round moon of the tropics was sweeping over a 
sky of cloudless blue. The stars were eclipsed and scarcely 

6i 



62 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


visible, except a few of the larger ones, as the belt of Orion, 
the planet Venus, and the luminous radii of the Southern 
Cross. 

From my feet a broad band of silver stretched away to 
the horizon, marking the meridian of the moon. This was 
broken by the line of coral reef, over which the surf curled 
and sparkled with a phosphoric brightness. The reef itself, 
running all round, seemed to gird the islet in a circle of fire. 
Here only were the waves in motion, as if pressed by some 
subaqueous and invisible power ; for beyond, scarcely a 
breath stirred the sleeping sea. It lay smooth and silent, 
while a satellite sky seemed carved out in its azure 
depths. 

On the south, a hundred ships were in the deep roadstead, 
a cable’s length from each other — their hulls, spars, and 
^iggi^g magnified to gigantic proportions under the deceptive 
and tremulous moonbeam. They were motionless as if the 
sea had been frozen around them into a solid crystal. 
Their flags drooped listlessly down, trailing along the masts, 
or warped and twined around the halyards. 

Up against the easy ascent extended the long rows of 
white tents, shining under the silvery moonbeam like pyra- 
mids of snow. In one a light was still gleaming through 
the canvas, where, perchance, some soldier sat up, wearily 
wiping his gun, or burnishing the brasses upon his belts. 

Now and then dark forms — human and uniformed — passed 
to and fro from tent to tent, each returning from a visit to 
some regimental comrade. At equal distances round the 
camp, others stood upright and motionless — the gleam of 
the musket showing the sentry on his silent post. 

The plunge of an oar, as some boat was rowed out among 
the anchored ships— -the ripple of the light breaker — at in- 
tervals the hail of a sentinel, “ Who goes there ? ” — the low 
parley that followed — the chirp of the cicada in the dark 
jungle— or the scream of the sea-bird, scared by some sub- 


A SKELETON ADVENTURE. 63 

marine enemy from its watery rest — were the only sounds 
that disturbed the deep stillness of the night. 

I continued my walk along the beach until I had reached 
that point of the island directly opposite to the mainland of 
Mexico. Here the chapparal grew thick and tangled, run- 
ning down to the water’s edge, where it ended in a clump of 
mangroves. As no troops were encamped here, the islet 
had not beeli cleared at this point, and the jungle was dark 
and solitary. 

The moon was now going down, and straggling shadows 
began to fall upon the water. 

Certainly some one skulked into the bushes ! — a rustling 
in the leaves — yes ! some fellow who has strayed beyond 
the line of sentries, and is afraid to return to camp. Ha! 
a boat I a skiff it is — a net and buoys 1 As I live, ’tis a 
i Mexican craft ! — who can have brought it here } Some 
I fisherman from the coast of Tuspan. No, he would not 
venture ; it must be 

j A strange suspicion flashed across my mind, and I rushed 
through the mangrove thicket, where I had observed the 
object a moment before. I had not proceeded fifty yards 
' when I saw the folly of this movement. I found myself in the 
i midst of a labyrinth, dark and dismal, surrounded by a wall 
of leaves and brambles. The branches of the mangroves, 
rooted at their tops, barred up the path, and vines laced 
them together. 

“ If they be spies,” thought I, “ I have taken the worst 
I plan to catch them. I may as well go through now. I 
i cannot be distant from the rear of the camp. Ugh I how 
dismal ! ” 

I pushed on, climbing over fallen trunks, and twining my- 
: self through the viny cordage. The creepers clung to my 
jieck — thorns penetrated my skin — the mezquite slapped me 
in the face, drawing blood. I laid my hand upon a pendent 
, limb ; a clammy object struggled under my touch, with a 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


64 

terrified yet spiteful violence, and, freeing itself, sprang over 
my shoulder, and scampered off among the fallen leaves. I 
felt its fetid breath, as the cold scales brushed against my 
cheek. It was the hideous iguana. 

A huge bat flapped its sail-like wings in my face, and 
returned again and again, breathing a mephitic odor that 
caused me to gasp. Twice I struck at it with my sword, 
cutting only the empty air. A third time my blade was 
caught in the trellis of parasites. It was horrible ; I felt 
terrified to contend with such strange enemies. 

At length, after a continued struggle, an opening appeared 
before me — a glade ; I rushed to the welcome spot. 

“ What a relief ! ” I ejaculated, emerging from the leafy 
darkness. Suddenly, I started back with a cry of horror ; 
my limbs refused to act ; the sword fell from my grasp, and 
I stood palsied and transfixed, as if by a bolt from heaven. 

Before me, and not over three paces distant, the image of 
Death himself rose out of the earth, and stretched forth his 
skeleton arms to clutch me. It was no phantom. There 
was the white, naked skull, with its eyeless sockets, the 
long fleshless limbs, the open, serrated ribs, the long, jointed 
fingers of Death himself. 

As my bewildered brain took in these objects, I heard a 
noise in the bushes, as of persons engaged in an angry 
struggle. 

“ Emile, Emile ! ’’ cried a female voice, “ you shall not 
murder him — you shall not ! ” 

“ Off ! off ! — Marie, let me go ? ” was shouted in the rough 
accents of a man. 

“Oh, no!” continued the female, “ you shall not — no — 
no — no 1 ” 

“ Curses on the woman I There, let me go now ! ” 

There was a sound as of some one struck with violence — 
a scream — and at the same moment a human figure rushed 
out of the bushes, and, confronting me, exclaimed : 


A SKELETON ADVENTURE. 


65 


“ Ha ! Monsieur le Capitaine ! coup pour coup ! ” 

I heard no more ; a heavy blow, descending upon my 
temples, deprived me of all power, and I fell senseless to the 
earth. 

When I returned to consciousness, the first objects I saw 



Umbrella Palms of Tropical America. 


were the huge brown whiskers of Lincoln, then Lincoln him- 
self, then the pale face of the boy Jack ; and, finally, the 
forms of several soldiers of my company. I saw that I was 
in my own tent, and stretched upon my camp-bed. 

“ What ? — how ? — what’s the matter i* — what’s this } ” I 

5 


66 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


said, raising my hands to the bandage of wet linen that 
bound my temples. 

“ Keep still, cap’n,” said Bob, taking my hand from the 
fillet and placing it by my side. 

“ Och ! by my sowl, he’s over it ; thank the Lord for His 
goodness ! said Chane, an Irish soldier. 

“ Over what ? w'hat has happened to me ? ” I inquired. 

“ Och, captain, yer honner, you’ve been nearly murthered, 
and all by thim Frinch scoundhrels ; bad luck to their dirty 
frog-atin’ picthers ! ” 

“ Murdered ! French scoundrels ! Bob, what is it ? ” 

“ Why,, yer see, cap’n, you’ve had a cut hyur over the 
head; and we think it’s them Frenchmen.” 

“ Oh ! I remember now ; a blow — but the Death ?— the 
Death ? ” 

I started up from the bed, as the phantom of my night 
adventure returned to my imagination. 

“The Death, cap’n? — what do yer mean?” inquired 
Lincoln, holding me in his strong arms. 

“ Oh ! the cap’n manes the skilleton, maybe,” said 
Chane. 

“ What skeleton ? ” I demanded. 

“ Why, an owld skilleton the boys found in the chapparil, 
yer honner. They hung it to a three ; and we found yer 
honner there, with the skilleton swinging over ye like a sign. 
Och ! the Frinch bastes ! ” 

I made no further inquiries about the “ Death.” 

“ But where are the Frenchmen ? ” asked I, after a mo- 
ment. 

“ Clane gone, yer honner,” replied Chane. 

“Gone?” 

“ Yes, cap’n ; that’s so as he sez it,” answered Lincoln. 

“ Gone ! What do you mean ? ” I inquired. 

“ Desarted, cap’n.” 

“ How do you know that ? ” 


A SKELETON ADVENTURE. 


67 


“ Because they ain’t here.” 

“ On the island ? ” 

“ Searched it all — every bush.” 

“ But who .? which of the French ? ” 

“ Dubrosc and that ’ar boy that was always with him — 
both desarted.” 

“ Ay and the devil go wid them ! He’ll niver hiv his own 
till he gets a hoult ov Misther Dubrosc ; bad cess to him ! ” 

“ You are sure they are missing ? ” 

“ Looked high and low, cap’n. Gravenitz seed Dubrosc 
steal into the chapparil with his musket. Shortly afterwards 
we heern a shot, but thought nothin’ of it till this mornin’, 
when one of the sodgers foun’ a Spanish sombrary out thar ; 
and Chane heern some’dy say the shot passed through Major 
Twing’s markey. Besides, we foun’ this butcher-knife where 
yer was lying.” 

Lincoln here held up a species of Mexican sword called a 
machete. 

“ Ha !— well.” 

“ That’s all, cap’n ; only its my belief there was Mexicans 
on this island, and them Frenchmen’s gone with them.” 

After Lincoln left me, I lay musing on this still somewhat 
mysterious affair. My memory, however, gradually grew 
clearer ; and the events of the preceding night soon became 
linked together and formed a complete chain. The shot that 
passed so near my head in Twing’s tent — the boat — the 
French words I had heard before I received the blow — and 
the exclamation, coup pour coup — all convinced me that 
Lincoln’s conjectures were right. 

Dubrosc had fired the shot, and struck the blow that had 
left me senseless. 

But who could the woman be whose voice I had heard 
pleading in my behalf ? 

My thoughts reverted to the boy who had gone off with 
Dubrosc, and whom I had often observed in the company 


68 THE RIFLE RANGERS. 

of the latter. A strange attachment appeared to exist 
between them, in which the boy seemed to be the devoted 
slave of the strong, fierce creole. Could this be a 
woman ? 

I recollected having been struck which his delicate fea- 
tures, the softness of his voice, and the smallness of his hands. 
There were other points, besides, in the tournure of the boy’s 
figure, that had appeared singular to me. I had frequently 
observed the eyes of this lad bent upon me, when Dubrosc 
was not present, with a strange and unaccountable expres- 
sion. 

Many other peculiarities connected with the boy and 
Dubrosc, which at the time had passed unnoticed and un- 
heeded, now presented themselves to my recollection, all 
tending to prove the identity of the boy with the woman 
whose voice I had heard in the thicket. 

I could not help smiling at the night’s adventures — de- 
termined, however, to conceal that part which related to the 
skeleton. 

In a few days my strength was restored. The cut I had 
received was not deep — thanks to my forage-cap and the 
bluntness of the Frenchman’s weapon. 




Shells from the Gulf of Mexico. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE LANDING AT SACRIFICIOS. 

ARLY in the month of 
March, the troops at 
Lobos were reembarked, 
and dropped down to 
the roadstead of Anton, Lizardo. 
The American fleet was already 
at anchor there and in a few days 
above a hundred sail of transports 
had joined it. 

There is no city, no village, hardly a habitation upon this 
half-desert coast. The aspect is an interminable waste of 
sandy hills, rendered hirsute and picturesque by the plumed 
frondage of the palm-tree. 

We dared not go ashore, although the smooth white beach 
tempted us strongly. A large body of the enemy was en- 
camped behind the adjacent ridges, and patrols could be 
seen at intervals galloping along the beach. 

I could not help fancying what must have been the feel- 
ing of the inhabitants in regard to our ships — a strange sight 
upon this desert coast, and not a pleasing one to them, 

69 




THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


70 

knowing that within those dark hulls were concealed the 
hosts of their armed invaders. Laocoon looked not with 
more dread upon the huge ribs of the Danaic horse than did 
the simple peasant of Anahuac upon this fleet of “oak levia- 
thans” that lay within so short a distance of his shores. 

To us the scene possessed an interest of a far different 
character. We looked proudly upon these magnificent 
models of naval architecture — upon their size, their number 
and their admirable adaptation. We view^ed with the chang- 
ing cheek and kindling eye this noble exhibition of a free 
people’s strength ; and as the broad banner of our country 
swung out upon the breeze of the tropics, we could not help 
exulting in the glory of that great nation whose uniform we 
wore around our bodies. 

It was no dream. We saw the burnished cannon and the 
bright epaulette, the gleaming button and the glancing bay- 
onet. We heard the startling trumpet, the stirring drum, and 
the shrill and thrilling fife ; and our souls drank in all those 
glorious sights and sounds that form at once the spirit and 
the witchery of war. 

The landing was to take place on the 9th ; and the point 
of debarkation fixed upon was the beach opposite the island 
of Sacrificios, just out of range of the guns of Vera Cruz. 

* * * * 

The 9th of March rose like a dream, bright, balmy, and 
beautiful. The sea was scarcely stirred by the gentlest 
breeze of the tropics ; but this breeze, light as it was, blew 
directly in our favor. 

At an early hour I observed a strange movement among 
the ships composing the fleet. Signals were changing in 
quick succession, and boats gliding rapidly to and fro. 

Before daybreak the huge surf-boats had been drawn 
down from their moorings, and with long hempen hawsers 
attached to the ships and steamers. 

The descent was about to be made. The ominous cloud 


THE LANDING AT SACRIFICIOS. 


71 

which had hung dark and threatening over the shores of Mex- 
ico was about to burst upon that devoted land. But where ? 
The enemy could not tell, and were preparing to receive us 
on the adjacent shore. 

The black cylinder began to smoke, and the murky cloud 
rolled down upon the water, half obscuring the fleet. Here 
and there abroad sail, freshly unfurled, hung stiffly from the 
yard ; the canvas, escaping from its gasket fastenings, had 
not yet been braced round to the breeze. 

Soldiers were seen standing along the decks ; some in full 
equipments, clutching the bright barrels of their muskets ; 
while others were buckling on their white belts, or cramming 
their cartouche-boxes. 

Officers, in sash and sword, paced the polished quarter- 
decks, or talked earnestly in groups, or watched with eager 
eyes the motions of the various ships. 

Unusual sounds were heard on all sides. The deep-toned 
chorus of the sailor — the creaking of the capstan, and the 
clanking of the iron cogs ; the “ heave-ho ! ” at the windlass, 
and the grating of the huge anchor-chain, as link after link 
rasped through the rusty ring — sounds that warned us to 
make ready for a change. 

In the midst of these came the brisk rolling of a drum. 
It was answered by another, and another, and still another, 
until all voices were drowned by the deafening noise. Then 
followed the mingling shouts of command — a rushing over 
the decks — and streams of blue-clad men poured down the 
dark sides, and seated themselves in the surf-boats. These 
were filled in a twinkling, and all was silent as before. 
Every voice was hushed in expectation, and every eye bent 
upon the little black steamer which carried the commander- 
in-chief. 

Suddenly a cloud of smoke rose up from her quarter ; a sheet 
of flame shot out horizontally ; and the report of a heavy gun 
shook the atmosphere like an earthquake. Before its echoes 


72 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


had subsided, a deafening cheer ran simultaneously through 
the fleet ; and the ships, all together, as if impelled by some 
hidden and supernatural power, broke from their moorings, 
and dashed through the water with the velocity of the wind. 
Away to the northwest, in an exciting race ; away for the 
island of Sacrificios ! 

On struggled the ships, bending to the breeze, and cleav- 
ing the crystal water with their bold bows ; on the steamers, 
beating the blue waves into a milky way, and dragging the 
laden boats in their foamy track. On followed the boats 
through the hissing and frothy caldron. Loud rolled the 
drum, loud brayed the bugle, and loud huzzas echoed from 
the adjacent shores. 

Already the foe was alarmed and alert. Light horsemen 
with streaming haste galloped up the coast. Lancers, with 
gay trappings and long pennons, appeared through the open- 
ings of the hills. Foaming, prancing steeds flew with light 
artillery over the naked ridges, dashing madly down deep 
defiles, and crushing the cactus with their whirling wheels. 
“ Andela ! Andela ! ” was their cry. In vain they urged their 
horses — in vain they drove the spur deep and bloody into 
their smoking sides. The elements were against them, and 
in favor of their foes. 

The earth and the water were their impediments, while 
the air and the water were the allies of their enemies. They 
clung and sweltered through the hot and yielding sand, or 
sank in the marshy borders of the Mandinga and the Medel- 
lin, while steam and the wind drove the ships of their adver- 
saries like arrows through the water. 

The alarm spread up the coast. Bugles were sounding, 
and horsemen galloped through the streets of Vera Cruz. 
The alarm-drum beat in the plaza, and the long roll echoed 
in every cuartel. 

Signal-rockets shot up from San Juan, and were answered 
by others from Santiago and Concepcion, 


THE LANDING AT SACRIFICIOS. 73 

Thousands of dark forms clustered upon the roofs of the 
city and the ramparts of the castle ; and thousands of pale 
lips whispered in accents of terror, “ They come ! they 
come ! ” 

As yet they knew not how the attack was to be made, or 
where to look for our descent. 

They imagined that we were about to bombard their proud 
fortress of San Juan, and expected soon to see the ships of 
these rash invaders shattered and sunk before its walls. 

The fleet was almost within long range, the black buoy- 
ant hulls bounded fearlessly over the water. The eager 
crowd thickened upon the walls. The artillerists of Santiago 
had gathered around their guns, silent and waiting orders. 
Already the burning fuse was sending forth its sulphurous 
smell, and the dry powder lay temptingly on the touch, when 
a quick, sharp cry was heard along the walls and battle- 
ments, a cry of mingled rage, disappointment, and dismay. 

The foremost ship had swerved suddenly from the track ; 
and bearing sharply to the left, under the ma7iege of a skil- 
ful helmsman, was running down under the shelter of Sacri- 
ficios. 

The next ship followed her guide, and the next, and the 
next ; and, before the astonished multitude recovered from 
their surprise, the whole fleet had come-to within pistol-shot 
of the island ! 

The enemy now, for the first time, perceived the ruse, and 
began to calculate its results. Those giant ships, that but 
a moment ago seemed rushing to destruction, had rounded 
to at a safe distance, and were preparing, with the speed and 
skilfulness of a perfect discipline, to pour a hostile host upon 
the defenseless shores. In vain the cavalry bugle called 
their horsemen to the saddle ; in vain the artillery car 
rattled along the streets ; both would be too late ? 

Meanwhile, the ships let fall their anchors, with a plunge, 
and a rasping, and a rattle. The sails came down upon the 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


74 

yards ; and sailors swung themselves into the great surf- 
boats, and mixed with the soldiers, and seized the oars. 

Then the blades were suddenly and simultaneously 
dropped on the surface of the wave, a naval officer in each 
boat directing the movements of the oarsmen. 

And the boats pulled out nearer, and by an echelon move- 
ment took their places in line. 

Light ships of war were thrown upon our flanks, to cover 
the descent by a cross fire. No enemy had yet appeared, 
and all eyes were turned landward with fiery expectation. 
Bounding hearts waited impatiently for the signal. 

The report of a single gun was at length heard from the 
ship of the commander-in-chief ; and, as if by one impulse, 
a thousand oars struck the water, and flung up the spray upon 
their broad blades. A hundred boats leaped forward 
simultaneously. The powerful stroke was repeated, and 
propelled them with lightning speed. Now was the exciting 
race, the regatta of war ! The Dardan rowers would have 
been distanced here. 

On ! on ! with the velocity of the wind, over the blue 
waves, through the snowy surf — on ! 

And now we neared the shore, and officers sprang to 
their feet, and stood with their swords drawn ; and soldiers 
half sat, half crouched, clutching their muskets. And the 
keels gritted upon the gravelly bed ; and, at the signal, a 
thousand men, in one plunge, flung themselves, into the 
water, and dashed madly through the surf. Thousands fol- 
lowed, holding their cartridge-boxes breast high ; and blades 
were glancing, and bayonets gleaming, and banners waving; 
and under glancing blades, and gleaming bayonets, and 
waving banners, the dark mass rushed high upon the 
beach. 

Then came a cheer — loud, long, and' exulting. It pealed 
along the whole line, uttered from five thousand throats, 
and answered by twice that number from the anchored ships. 


THE LANDING AT SACRIFICIOS. 75 

It echoed along the shores, and back from the distant 
battlements. 

A color-sergeant, springing forward, rushed up the 
steep sides of a sand-hill, and planted his flag upon its snowy 
ridge. 

As the well-known banner swung out upon the breeze, 
another cheer, wild and thrilling, ran along the line ; a hun- 
dred answering flags were hauled up through the fleet ; the 
ships of war saluted with full broadsides ; and the guns of 
San Juan, now for the first time waking from their lethargic 
silence, poured forth their loudest thunder. 

The sun was just setting as our column commenced its 
advance inward. After winding for a short distance through 
the defiles of the sand-hills, we halted for the night, our 
left wing resting upon the beach. 

The soldiers bivouacked without tents — sleeping upon 
their arms, with the soft sand for their couch and the car- 
tridge-box for their pillow. 



i! 



5 



Red Corals of the Caribbean Sea. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE CITY OF THE TRUE CROSS. 

ERA CRUZ is a fortified city. 
Round and round it is girt by a 
wall, with regular batteries placed 
at intervals. You enter it from the 
land side by three gates, (garitas) 
and from the sea by a beautiful 
pier or mole that projects some 
distance into the water. The lat- 
ter is a modern construction ; and 
when the sun is descending be- 
hind the Mexican Cordilleras to the west, and the breeze 
blows in from the Gulf, this mole — the seat of but little 
commercial activity — becomes the favorite promenade of 
the dark-eyed Vera-Cruzanas and their pallid lovers. 

The city stands on the very beach. The sea at full tide 
washes its battlements, and many of the houses overlook the 
water. On almost every side a plain of sand extends to a 
mile’s distance from the walls, where it terminates in those 
lofty white sand-ridges that form a feature of the shores of the 

76 



THE CITY OF THE TRUE CROSS. 77 

Mexican Gulf. During high tides and “ northers ” the sea 
washes over the surrounding sand-plain, and Vera Cruz ap- 
pears almost isolated anud the waves. On one side, however, 
towards the south, there is variety in the aspect. Here ap- 
pear traces of vegetation — some low trees and bushes, a 
view of the forest inward into the country, a few buildings 
outside the walls, a railway station, a cemetery, an aqueduct, 
a small sluggish stream, marshes and stagnant pools. 

In front of the city, built upon the coral reef, stands the 
celebrated fortress-castle of San Juan de Ulloa. It is about 
one thousand yards out from the mole, and over one of its an- 
gles towers a lighthouse. Its walls, with the reef on which 
stands (Gallega), shelter the harbor of Vera Cruz — which 
in fact, is only a roadstead — from the north winds. Under 
the lee of San Juan the ships of commerce lie at anchor. 
There are but few' of them at any time. 

Another large fort (Concepcion) stands upon the beach at 
the northern angle of the city, and a third (Santiago) de- 
fends it toward the south. A circular bastion, with heavy 
pieces of ordnance, sweeps the plain to the rear, command- 
ing it, as far as the sand-ridges. 

Vera Cruz is a pretty picture to look at, either from the 
sea or from the sand-hills in the interior. Its massive domes 
— its tall steeple^^nd turreted roofs — its architecture, half 
Moorish, half modern — the absence of scattered suburbs or 
other salient objects to distract the eye — all combine to 
render the City of the True Cross a unique and striking pic- 
ture. In fact, its numerous architectural varieties, bound 
as they are into compact unity by a wall of dark lava-stone, 
impress you with the idea that some artist had arranged 
them for the sake of effect. The coup-d'ml often reminded 
me of the engravings of cities in “Goldsmith’s Epitome,” 
that used to be considered the bright spots in my lessons of 
school geography. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


78 

At break of day, on the loth, the army took up its line of 
march through hills of sand drift. Division lapped upon 
division, regiment upon regiment, extending the circle of in- 
vestment by an irregular echelon. Foot rifles and light in- 
fantry drove the enemy from ridge to ridge, and through 
the dark mazes of the chapparal gorge. The column con- 
tinued its tortuous track, winding through deep defiles, and 
over hot white hills, like a bristling snake. It moved with- 
in range of the guns of the city, screened by intervening 
heights. Now and then the loud cannon of Santiago 
opened upon it, some regiment displayed itself, crossing 
a defile or pushing over the spur of a sand-hill. The con- 
stant rattling of rifles and musketry told that our skirmishers 
were busy in the advance. The arsenal was carried by a 
brilliant charge, and the American flag weaved over the ruins 
of the Convent Malibran. On the nth the Orizava road 
was crossed, and the light troops of the enemy were brushed 
from the neighboring hills. They retired sullenly under 
shelter of their heavy guns, and within the walls of the city. 

On the morning of the 12th, the investment was complete. 
Vera Cruz lay within a semicircle, around its center. The 
half circumference was a chain of hostile regiments that em- 
braced the city in their concave arc. The right of this 
chain pitched its tents opposite the isle of Sacrificios ; while, 
five miles off to the north, its left rested upon the hamlet 
Vergara. The sea covered the complement of this circle, 
guarded by a fleet of dark and warlike ships. 

The diameter hourly grew shorter. The lines of circum- 
vallation lapped closer and closer around the devoted city, 
until the American pickets appeared along tbe ridges of the 
nearest hills, and within range of the guns of Santiago, Con- 
cepcion, and Ulloa. 

A smooth sand-plain, only a mile in width, lay between 
the besiegers and the walls of the besieged. 


THE CITY OF THE TRUE CROSS. 


79 

After tattoo-beat on the night of the 12th, with a party of 
my brother officers, I ascended the high hill around which 
winds the road leading to Orizava. 

This hill overlooks the city of Vera Cruz. 

After dragging ourselves wearily through the soft, yielding 
sand, we reached the summit, and halted on a projecting 
ridge. 

With the exception of a variety of exclamations expressing 
surprise and delight, not a word for a while was uttered by 
any of our party, each individual being wrapped up in the 
contemplation of a scene of surpassing interest. It was 
moonlight, and sufficiently clear to distinguish the minutest 
objects on the picture that lay rolled out before us like a 
map. 

Below our position, and seeming almost within reach of 
the hand, lay the city of the True Cross, rising out of the 
white plain, and outlined upon the blue background of the 
sea. 

The dark gray towers and painted domes ; the Gothic 
turret and Moorish minaret, impressed us with the idea of 
the antique ; while here and there the tamarind, nourished 
on some azotea, or the fringed fronds of the palm-tree, 
drooping over the notched parapet, lent to the city an as- 
pect at once southern and picturesque. 

Domes, spires and cupolas rose over the old gray walls, 
crowned with floating banners— the consular flags of France, 
and Spain, and Britain, waving alongside the eagle of the 
Aztecs. 

Beyond, the blue waters of the Gulf rippled lightly 
against the sea-washed battlements of San Juan, whose 
brilliant lights glistened along the combing of the surf. 

To the south we could distinguish the isle of Sacrificios, 
and the dark hulls that slept silently under the shelter of its 
coral reef. 

Outside the fortified wall, which girt the city with its 


8o 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


cincture of gray rock, a smooth plain stretched rearward to 
the foot of the hill on which we stood ; and right and left 
along the crest of the ridge from Punta Hornos to Vergara, 
ranged a line of dark forms — the picket sentries of the 
American outposts as they stood knee-deep in the soft, 
yielding sand-drift. 

It was a picture of surpassing interest ; and, as we stood 
gazing upon it, the moon suddenly disappeared behind a 
bank of clouds ; and the lamps of the city, heretofore 
eclipsed by her brighter beam, now burned up and glistened 
along the walls. 

Bells rang merrily from church-towers, and bugles 
sounded through the echoing streets. At intervals we 
could hear the shrill cries of the guard : “ Centinela ! alerte f ” 
and the sharp challenge, “ Quiefi viva ? ” 

Then the sound of sweet music, mingled with the soft voices 
of women, was wafted to our ears ; and with beating hearts 
we fancied we could hear the light tread of silken feet, as 
they brushed over the polished floor of the ball-room. 

It was a tantalizing moment, and wistful glances were 
cast on the beleaguered town ; while more than one of our 
party was heard impatiently muttering a wish that it might 
be carried by assault. 

As we continued gazing, a bright jet of flame shot out 
horizontally from the parapet over Puerto Nuevo. 

“ Look out ! ” cried Twing, at the same instant flinging 
his wiry little carcass squat under the brow of a sand- 
wreath. 

Several of the party followed his example ; but, before all 
had housed themselves, a shot came singing past, along 
with the loud report of a twenty-four. 

The shot struck the comb of the ridge, within several 
yards of the group, and ricocheted off into the distant hills. 

“ Try it again ! ” cried one. 

“ That fellow has lost a champagne supper ! ” said Twing. 


THE CITY OF THE TRUE CROSS. 8l 

“ More likely he has had it, or his aim would be more 
steady,” suggested an officer. 

“ Oysters, too — only think of it ! ” said Clayley. 

“ Howld your tongue, Clayley, or by my soul I’ll charge 
down upon the town ! ” 

This came from Hennessy, upon whose imagination the 
contrast between champagne and oysters and the gritty 
pork and biscuit he had beeif feeding upon for several days 
past, acted like a shock. 

“There again!” cried Twing, whose quick eye caught 
the blaze upon the parapet. 

“ A shell, by the powers ” exclaimed Hennessy. “ Let it 
dhrop first, or it may dhrop on ye,” he continued, as several 
officers were about to fling themselves on their faces. 

The bomb shot up with a hissing, hurtling sound. A 
little spark could be seen as it traced its graceful curves 
through the dark heavens. 

, The report echoed from the walls, and at the same instant, 
was heard a dull sound, as the shell buried itself in the 
sand-drift. 

It fell close to one of the picket sentinels, who was stand- 
ing upon his post within a few paces of the group. The 
man appeared to be either asleep or stupefied, as he 
remained stock-still. Perhaps he had mistaken it for the 
ricochet of a round shot. 

“ It’s big shooting for them to hit the hill ! ” exclaimed a 
young officer. 

The words were scarcely passed when a loud crash, like 
the bursting of a cannon, was heard under our feet ; the 
ground opened like an earthquake ; and, amidst the whis- 
tling of the fragments, the sand was dashed into our 
faces. 

A cloud of dust hung for a moment above the spot. The 
moon at this instant reappeared ; and, as the dust slowly 
settled away, the mutilated body of the soldier was seen 

9 


82 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


upon the brow of the hill, at the distance of twenty paces 
from his post. 

A low cheer reached us from Concepcion, the fort whence 
the shell had been projected. 

Chagrined at the occurrence, and mortified that it had 
been caused by our imprudence, we were turning to leave 
the hill, when the “ whish ” of a rocket attracted our atten- 
tion. 

It rose from the chapparal, about a quarter of a mile in 
rear of the camp ; and, before it had reached its culminating 
point, an answering signal shot up from the Puerto Nuevo. 

At the same instant a horseman dashed out of the thicket, 
and headed his horse at the steep sand-hills. After three 
or four desperate plunges, the fiery mustang gained the 
crest of the ridge upon which lay the remains of the dead 
soldier. 

Here the rider, seeing our party, suddenly reined up and 
balanced for a moment in the stirrup, as if uncertain 
whether to advance or retreat. 

We, on the other hand, taking him for some officer of our 
own, and wondering who it could be galloping about at such 
an hour, stood silent and waiting. 

“By heavens, that’s a Mexican? muttered Twing, as the 
ranchero dress became apparent under a brighter beam of 
the moon. 

Before anyone could reply, the strange horseman wheeled 
sharply to the left, and, draw'ing a pistol, fired it into our 
midst. Then spurring his wild horse, he galloped past us 
into a deep defile of the hills. 

“You’re a set of cussed Yankee fools!” he shouted 
back, as he reached the bottom of the dell. 

Half a dozen shots replied to the taunting speech ; but 
the retreating object was beyond pistol range before our 
astonished party had recovered from their surprise at such 
an act of daring audacity. 


THE CITY OF THE TRUE CROSS. 


83 

In a few minutes we could see both horse and rider near 
the walls of the city — a speck on the white plain ; and 
shortly after we heard the grating hinges of the Puerto Nuevo, 
as the huge gate swung open to receive him. No one was 
hit by the shot of his pistol. Several could be heard grit- 
ting their teeth with mortification as we commenced de- 
scending the hill. 

‘‘Did you know that voice, captain.?” whispered Clayley 
to me as we returned to camp. 

“ Yes.” 

“ You think it was ” 

“ Dubrosc.” 



CHAPTER X. 



N reaching the camp I found a 
mounted orderly in front of my tent. 

“ From the general,” said the 
soldier, touching his cap, and hand- 
ing me a sealed note. 

The orderly, without waiting a reply, leaped into his 
saddle and rode off. 

I broke the seal with delight : 


“ Sir, — You will report, with fifty men, to Major Blossom, at 4 A. M. 
to-morrow. 

By order, 

(Signed) “ A. A. A. G. 

“ Captain Haller, commanding 
Co. Rifle Rangers.” 


“ Old Bios, eh ? Quartermaster scouting, I hope,” said 
Clayley, looking over the contents of the note. 

“ Anything but the trenches ; I am sick of them.” 

“ Had it been anybody else but Blossom — fighting 
84 


MAJOR BLOSSOM. 


85 

Daniels, for instance — we might have reckoned on a com- 
fortable bit of duty ; but the old whale can hardly climb 
into his saddle — it does look bad.’’ 

“ I will not long remain in doubt. Order the sergeant to 
warn the men for four.” 

I walked through the camp in search of Blossom’s 
marquee, which I found in a grove of caoutchouc-trees, and 
out of range of the heaviest metal in Vera Cruz. The major 
himself was seated in a large Campeachy chair, that had 
been “borrowed” from some neighboring rancho; and 
perhaps it was never so well filled as by its present oc- 
cupant. 

It would be useless to attempt an elaborate description 
of Major Blossom. That would require an entire chapter. 

Perhaps the best that can be done to give the reader an 
idea of him is to say that he was a great, fat, red man, and 
known among his brother officers as “ the swearing major. ” 
If anyone in the army loved good living, it was Major 
Blossom ; and if anyone hated hard living, that man was 
Major George Blossom. He hated Mexicans too, and 
mosquitoes, and scorpions, and snakes, and sand-flies, and 
all enemies to his rest and comfort ; and the manner in 
which he swore at these natural foes would have enti- 
tled him to a high commission in the celebrated army of 
Flanders. 

Major Blossom was a quartermaster in more senses than 
one, as he occupied more quarters than any two men in the 
army, not excepting the general-in-chief ; and when many a 
braver man and better officer was cut down to “twenty-five 
pounds of baggage,” the private lumber of Major Blossom, 
including himself, occupied a string of wagons like a siege- 
train. 

As I entered the tent he was seated at supper. The 
viands before him were in striking contrast to the food upon 
which the army was then subsisting. There was no gravel 


86 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


gritting between the major’s teeth as he masticated mess- 
pork or moldy biscuit. He found no debris of sand and 
small rocks at the bottom of his coffee-cup. No; quite the 
contrary. 

A dish of pickled salmon, a side of cold turkey, a plate of 
sliced tongue, with a fine Virginia ham, were the striking fea- 
tures of the major’s supper, while a handsome French cof- 
fee-urn, containing the essence of Mocha, simmered upon 
the table. Out of this the major, from time to time, replen- 
ished his silver cup. A bottle of eau-de-vie^ that stood near 
his right hand, assisted him likewise in swallowing his 
ample ration. 

“ Major Blossom, I presume ? ” said I. 

“ My name,” ejaculated the major, between two swallows, 
so short and quick that the phrase sounded like a monosyl- 
lable. 

“ I have received orders to report to you, sir.” 

“ Ah ! bad business ! bad business ! ” exclaimed the major, 
qualifying the words with an energetic oath. 

“ How, sir ? ” 

“ Atrocious business ! dangerous service ! Can’t see why 
they sent me.'' 

“ I came, major, to inquire the nature of the service, so 
that I may have my men in order for it.” 

“ Confounded dangerous service.” 

“ It is? 

“ Infernal cut-throats ! thousands of ’em in the bushes — 
bore a man through as soon as wink. Those yellow devils 

are worse than ” and again the swearing major wound up 

with an exclamation not proper to be repeated. 

“ Can’t see why they picked me out. There’s Myers, and 
Wayne and Wood, not half my size, and that thin scare the- 
crows, Allen ; but no — the general wants ms killed. Die soon 
enough in this infernal nest of centipedes without being shot 
in the chapparal 1 I wish the chapparal was— and again 


MAJOR BLOSSOM. 87 

the major’s unmentionable words came pouring forth in a 
volley. 

I saw that it was useless to interrupt him until the first burst 
was over. From his frequent anathemas on the “ bushes ” 
and the “ chapparal,” I could gather that the service I was 
called upon to perform lay at some distance from the camp ; 
but beyond this I could learn nothing, until the major had 
sworn himself into a degree of composure, which after some 
minutes Jie accomplished. I then restated the object of my 
visit. 

“ We’re going into the country for mules,” replied the 
major. “ Mules, indeed ! Heaven knows there isn’t a mule 
within ten miles, unless with a yellow-hided Mexican on his 
back ; and such mules we don’t want. The volunteers — 
curse them ! — have scared everything to the mountains : not 
a stick of celery nor an onion to be had at any price.” 

“ How long do you think we may be gone ? ” I inquired. 

“ Long ? Only a day. If I stay overnight in the chap- 
paral, may a wolf eat me ! Oh no ; if the mules don’t turn 
up soon, somebody else may go fetch ’em — that’s all.” 

“ I may ration them for one day ? ” said I. 

“Two — two; your fellows ’ll be hungry. Roberts, of the 
Rifles, who’s been out in the country, tells me there isn’t 
enough forage to feed a cat. So you’d better take two days' 
biscuit ; I suppose we’ll meet with beef enough on the hoof; 
though I’d rather have a rump-steak out of the Philadelphia 
market than all the beef in Mexico. Hang their beef ! it’s 
as tough as tan leather ! ” 

“ At four o’clock then, major. I’ll be with you,” said I, 
preparing to take my leave. 

“ Make it a little later, captain ; I get no sleep with these 
cursed gallynippers and things ; but, stay — how many men 
have you got ? ” 

“ In my company eighty; but my order is to take only 
fifty.” 


88 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


There again ! I told you so ; want me killed - they want 
old Bios killed. Fifty men, when a thousand of the leather- 
skinned devils have been seen not ten miles off ! Fifty men ! 
great heavens ! fifty men ! There’s an escort to take the 
chapparal with ! ” 

“ But they are fifty men worth a hundred, I promise you.” 

“ And if they were worth five hundred, it would be enough : 

I tell you the chapparal’s full — full as ” (a certain place 

of torment familiar to the major’s lips). 

“ We shall have to proceed with the more caution,” I re- 
joined. 

“ Caution be ! ” and caution was summarily sentenced 

to the same regions. “Bring all — every son of a gun — 
bugler and all. ” 

“ But that, major, would be contrary to the general’s 
orders.” 

“ Hang the general’s orders ! Obey some generals’ 
orders in this army, and you would do queer things. Bring 
them all ; take my advice. I tell you, if you don’t our lives 
may answer for it. Fifty men ! ” 

I was about to depart when the major stopped me with a 
loud “ Hilloa ! ” 

“ Why,” cried he, “I have lost my senses. Your pardon, 
captain ! This unlucky thing has driven me craz}^ They 
must pick upon What will you drink.? Here’s some 

good brandy — infernal good ; sorry I can’t say as much for 
the water.” 

I mixed a glass of brandy and water ; the major did the 
same; and, having pledged each other, we bade “good 
night,” and separated. 



A Fresh Air Colony. Indian Residence in the Tropics. 



CHAPTER XI. 


SCOUTING IN THE CHAPPARAL. 


ETWEEN the shores of the Mexican 
Gulf and the “ foot hills ” {piedmont) 
of the great chain of the Andes, lies 
a strip of low lands. In many 
places this belt is nearly a hundred 
miles in breadth, but generally less 
than fifty. It is of a tropical character, termed in the language 
of the country tierra caliente. It is mostly covered with jungly 
forests, in which are found the palm, the tree-ferns, the ma- 
hogany and India-rubber trees, dyewoods, canes, llianas, and 
many other gigantic parasites. In the underwood you meet 
thorny aloes, the “ pita ” plant, and wild mezcal ; various 

cactacese, and flora of singular forms, scarcely known to the 

89 


90 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


botanist. There are swamps dark and dank, overshadowed 
by the tall cypress with its pendent streamers of silvery 
moss {Tillandsia usneoides). From these arise the miasma — 
the mother of the dreaded “ vomito.” 

This unhealthy region is but thinly inhabited ; but here 
you meet with people of the African race, aud nowhere else 
in Mexico. In the towns — and there are but few — you see 
the yellow mulatto, and the pretty quadroon with her black 
waving hair ; but in the spare settlements of the country you 
meet with a strange race — the cross of the negro with the 
ancient inhabitants of the country — the “ zamboes.” 

Along the coast and in the black country, behind Vera 
Cruz, you will find these people living a half-indolent, half- 
savage life, as small cultivators, cattle-herds, fishermen, or 
hunters. In riding through the forest you may often chance 
upon such a picture as the following : 

There is an opening in the woods that presents an aspect 
of careless cultivation — a mere patch cleared out of the thick 
jungle — upon which grow yams, the sweet potato {co7ivolvu- 
lus batata)^ chile, melons, and the calabash. On one side of 
the clearing there is a hut — a sort of shed. A few upright 
poles forked at their tops ; a few others laid horizontally 
upon them ; a thatch of palm-leaves to shadow the burning 
rays of the sun — that is all. 

In this shadow there are human beings — men, women, 
children. They wear rude garments of white cotton cloth ; 
but they are half naked, and their skins are dark, almost 
black. Their hair is woolly and frizzled. They are not In- 
dians, they are not negroes, they are “zamboes ” — a mixture 
of both. They are coarse-featured, and coarsely clad. 
You would find it difficult, at a little distance, to distin- 
guish their sex, did you not know that those who swing in 
the hammocks and recline indolently upon the palm-mats 
{petatbs) are the men, and those who move about and do the 
work are the females. One of the former occasionally stim- 


SCOUTING IN THE CHAPPARAL. 


91 

ulates the activity of the latter by a stroke of the “ cuarto ” 
(mule- whip). 

A few rude implements of furniture are in the shed ; a 
“ metate,” on which the boiled maize is ground for the 
“ tortilla ” cakes ; some “ ollas ” of red earthenware ; dishes 
of the calabash ; a rude hatchet or two ; a “ machete ” a 
banjo made from the gourd-shell ; a high-peaked saddle, 
with bridle and “ lazo ” ; strings of red-pepper pods hang- 
ing from the horizontal beams — not much more. A lank 
dog on the ground in front ; a lean “ mustang ” tied to the 
tree ; a couple of “ burros ” (donkeys) ; and perhaps a sOrry 
galled mule in an enclosure adjoining. 

The zambo enjoys his dolce far 7iiente while his wife does 
the work — what work there is, but that is not much. There 
is an air of neglect that impresses you; an air of spontaneity 
about the picture — for the yams and the melons, and the 
chile-plants, half choked with weeds, seem to grow without 
culture, and the sun gives warmth, so as to render almost 
unnecessary the operations of the spindle and the loom. 

The forest opens again, and another picture — a prettier 
one — presents itself. It bears the aspect of a better culti- 
vation, though still impressing you with ideas of indolence 
and neglect. This picture is the “rancho,” the settlement 
of the small farmer, or “ vaguero ” (cattle-herd). Its form 
is that of an ordinary house, with gables and sloping roof, 
but its walls are peculiar. They are constructed of gigantic 
bamboo canes, or straight poles of the Fouquiera splendms. 
These are laced together by cords of the “ pita ” aloe ; but 
the interstices between are left open, so as freely to admit 
the breeze. Coolness, not warmth, is the object of these 
buildings. The roof is a thatch of palm leaves, and with 
far-impending eaves casts off the heavy rain of the tropics. 
The appearance is striking — more picturesque even than the 
chalet of Switzerland. 

There is but little furniture within. There is no table; 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


92 

there are few chairs, and these of raw hide nailed upon a 
rude frame. There are bedsteads of bamboo ; the universal 
tortilla-stone metatd ”) ; mats of palm-leaf ; baskets of 
the same material; a small altar-like fireplace in the middle 
of the floor ; a bandolon hanging by the wall ; a saddle of 
stamped leather, profusely ornamented with silver nails and 
plates ; a hair bridle, with huge Mameluke bit ; an esco- 
pette and sword, or machetd ; an endless variety of gaily- 
painted bowls, dishes, and cups, but neither knife, fork nor 
spoon. Such are the movables of a “rancho” in the 
tierra caliente. 

You may see the ranchero by the door, or attending to 
his small, wiry, and spirited horse, outside. The man him- 
self is either of Spanish blood or a “ mestizo.” He is 
rarely a pure Indian, who is most commonly a peon or 
laborer, and who can hardly be termed a “ ranchero” in its 
proper sense. 

The ranchero is picturesque — his costume exceedingly so. 
His complexion is swarthy, his hair is black, and his teeth 
are ivory white. He is often mustached, but rarely takes 
the trouble to trim or keep these ornaments in order. His 
whisker is seldom bushy or luxuriant. His trousers (cal- 
zoneros) are of green or dark velvet, open down the outside 
seams, and at the bottoms overlaid with stamped black 
leather, to defend the ankles of the wearer against the thorny 
chapparal. A row of bell buttons, often silver, close the 
open seams when the weather is cold. There are wide 
drawers (calzoncillos) of fine white cotton underneath ; and 
these puff out through the seams, forming a tasty contrast 
with the dark velvet. A silken sash, generally of scarlet 
color, encircles the waist ; and its fringed ends hang over 
the hips. The hunting-knife is stuck under it. There is a 
short jacket of velveteen, tastefully embroidered and but- 
toned ; a white cambric shirt, elaborately worked and 
plaited ; and over all a heavy broad-brimmed hat (som- 



SCOUTING IN THE CHAPPARAL. 93 

brero), with silver or gold band, and tags of the same ma- 
terial sticking out from the sides. He wears boots of red 
leather, and huge spurs with bell rowels ; and he is never 
seen without the “ serape.” The last is his bed, his 
blanket, his cloak, and his umbrella. 


His wife may be seen moving about the rancho, or upon 
her knees before the metate kneading tortillas, and besmear- 
ing them with “ chile Colorado ” (red capsicum). She 
wears a petticoat or skirt of a flaming bright color, very 
short, showing her well-turned but stockingless ankles, with 
her small slippered feet. Her arms, neck, and part of her 


Mexican Rancheros. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


94 

bosom are nude, but half concealed by the bluish-gray scarf 
(rebozo) that hangs loosely over her head. 

The ranchero leads a free, easy life, burthened with few 
cares. He is the finest rider in the world, following his 
cattle on horseback, and never makes even the shortest 
journey on foot. He plays upon the bandolon, sings an 
Andalusian ditty, and is fond of chingarito (mezcal whisky) 
and the “fandango.” 

Such is the ranchero of the tierra caliente around Vera 
Cruz, and such is he in all other parts of Mexico, from its 
northern limits to the Isthmus. 

But in the tierra calkfite you may also see the rich planter 
of cotton, or sugar-cane, or cocoa (cacao), or the vanilla 
bean. His home is the “ hacienda.” This is a still livelier 
picture. There are many fields enclosed and tilled. They 
are irrigated by the water from a small stream. Upon its 
banks there are cocoa-trees ; and out of the rich moist soil 
shoot up rows of the majestic plantain, whose immense 
yellow-green leaves, sheathing the stem and then drooping 
gracefully over, render it one of the most ornamental pro- 
ductions of the tropics, as its clustering legumes of fari- 
naceous fruit make it one of the most useful. Low walls, 
white or gaily painted, appear over the fields, and a hand- 
some spire rises above the walls. That is the “hacienda” 
of the planter — the “ rico ” of the tierra caliente^ with its out- 
buildings and chapel belfry. You approach it through 
scenes of cultivation. “ Peons,” clad in white cotton and 
reddish leathern garments, are busy in the fields. Upon 
their heads are broad-brimmed hats, woven from the leaf of 
the sombrero palm. Their legs are naked, and upon their 
feet are tied rude sandals {guarach'es) with leathern thongs. 
Their skins are dark, though not black ; their eyes are wild 
and sparkling ; their looks grave and solemn ; their hair 
coarse, long, and crow-black ; and, as they walk, their toes 
turn inward. Their downcast looks, their attitudes and 



SCOUTING IN THE CHAPPARAL. 95 

demeanor, impress you with the conviction that they are 
iliose who carry the water and hew the wood of the 
country. It is so. They are the“Indios mansos” (the 
civilized Indians) : slaves, in fact, though freemen by the 
letter of the law. They are the “ peons,” the laborers, the 
serfs of the land — the descendants of the conquered sons of 
Anahuac. 


Scene in Tropical America ; Indian Thatch House, Voyageur. 

Such are the people you find in the tierra calie?ite of 
Mexico — in the environs of Vera Cruz. They do not differ 
much from the inhabitants of the high plains, either in cos- 
tume, customs, or otherwise. In fact, there is a homoge- 
neousness about the inhabitants of all Spanish America — 
making allowance for difference of climate and other pecu- 
liarities — rarely found in any other people. 


96 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


******* 

Before daybreak of the morning after my interview with 
the “swearing major,” a head appeared between the flaps 
of my tent. It was that of Sergeant Bob Lincoln. 

“ The men air under arms, cap’n.” 

“ Very well,” cried I, leaping from my bed, and hastily 
buckling on my accouterments. 

I looked forth. The moon was still brightly shining, and 
I could see a number of uniformed men standing upon the 
company parade, in double rank. Directly in front of my 
tent a small boy was saddling a very small horse. The boy 
was “ Little Jack,” as the soldiers called him ; and the horse 
was little Jack’s mustang, “ Twidget.” 

Jack wore a tight-fitting green jacket, trimmed with yellow 
lace, and buttoned up to the throat; pantaloons of light 
green, straight cut and striped along the seams ; a forage- 
cap set jauntily upon a profusion of bright curls ; a saber 
with a blade of eighteen inches, and a pair of clinking 
Mexican spurs. Besides thesCj he carried the smallest of 
all rifles. Thus armed and accoutered, he presented the 
appearance of a miniature Ranger. 

Twidget had his peculiarities. He was a tight, wiry little 
animal, that could live upon mezquite beans or maguey 
leaves for an indefinite time; and his abstemiousness was 
often put to the test. Afterwards, upon an occasion during 
the battles in the valley of Mexico, Jack and Twidget had 
somehow got separated, at which time the mustang had 
been shut up for four days in the cellar of a ruined convent 
with no other food than stones and mortar ! How Twidget 
came by his name is not clear. Perhaps it was some waif 
of the rider’s own fancy. 

As I appeared at the entrance of my tent. Jack had just 
finished strapping on his Mexican saddle ; and seeing me, 
up he ran to assist in serving my breakfast. This was 
hastily despatched, and our party took the route in silence 


SCOUTING IN THE CHAPPARAL. 97 

through the sleeping camp. Shortly after we were joined 
by the major, mounted on a tall, raw-boned horse ; while a 
darkie, whom the major addressed as “ Doc,” rode a snug 
stout cob, and carried a large basket. This last contained 
the major’s commissariat. 

We were soon traveling along the Orizava road, the 
major and Jack riding in advance. I could not help smiling 
at the contrast between these two equestrians ; the former 
with his great gaunt horse, looming up in the uncertain 
light of the morning like some huge centaur ; while Jack and 
Twidget appeared the two representatives of the kingdom of 
Lilliput. 

On turning an angle of the forest, a horseman appeared 
at some distance along the road. The major gradually 
slackened his pace, until he was square with the head of the 
column, and then fell back into the rear. This maneuver 
was executed in the most natural manner, but I could plainly 
see that the mounted Mexican had caused the major no 
small degree of alarm. 

The horseman proved to be a zambo, in pursuit of cattle 
that had escaped from a neighboring corral. I put some 
inquiries to him in relation to the object of our expedition. 
The zambo pointed to the south, saying in Spanish that 
mules were plenty in that direction. 

^^Hay muchos muchissimos ” (There are many), said he, as he 
indicated a road which led through a strip of forest on our left. 

Following his direction, we struck into the new path, which 
soon narrowed into a bridle-road or trail. The men were 
thrown into single file, and marched d V Indienne. The road 
darkened, passing under thick-leaved trees, that met and 
twined over our heads. 

At times the hanging limbs and joined parasites caused 
the major to flatten his huge body upon the horn of the 
saddle ; and once or twice he was obliged to alight, and walk 
under the impeding branches of the thorny acacias, 

7 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


98 

Our journey continued without noise, silence being in- 
terrupted only by an occasional oath from the major — uttered, 
however, in a low tone, as we were now fairly “ in the woods.” 
The road at length opened upon a small prairie or glade, near 
the borders of which rose a “butte,” covered with chapparal. 

Leaving the party in ambuscade below, I ascended the 
butte, to obtain a view of the surrounding country. The day 
had now fairly broken, and the sun was just rising over the 
blue waters of the Gulf. 

His rays, prinkling over the waves, caused them to dance 
and sparkle with a metallic brightness ; and it was only 
after shading my eyes that I could distinguish the tall masses 
of ships and the burnished towers of the city. 

To the south and west stretched a wide expanse of cham- 
paign country, glowing in all the brilliance of tropical veg- 
etation. Fields of green, and forests of darker green ; here 
and there patches of yellow, and belts of olive-colored leaves ; 
at intervals a sheet of silver — the reflection from a placid lake, 
or the bend of some silent stream — was visible upon the im- 
posing picture at my feet. 

A broad belt of forest dotted with the life-like frondage 
of the palm, swept up to the foot of the hill. Beyond this 
an open tract of meadow, or prairie, upon which were brows- 
ing thousands of cattle. The distance was too great to dis- 
tinguish their species ; but the slender forms of some of them 
convinced me that the object of our search would be found 
in that direction. 

The meadow, then, was the point to be reached. 

The belt of forest already mentioned must be crossed ; and 
to effect this I struck into a trail that seemed to lead in the 
direction of the meadow. 

The trail became lighter as we entered the heavy timber. 
Some distance farther on we reached a stream. Here the 
trail entirely disappeared. No “ signs ” could be found on 
the opposite bank. The underwood was thick j and vines, 


SCOUTING IN THE CHAPPARAL. 99 

with broad green leaves and huge clusters of scarlet flowers, 
barred up the path like a wall. 

It was strange ! The path had evidently led to this point, 
but where beyond ? 

Several men were detached across the stream to find an 
opening. After a search of some minutes a short exclamation 
from Lincoln proclaimed success ; I crossed over, and 
found the hunter standing near the bank, holding back a 
screen of boughs and vine-leaves, beyond which a narrow 
but plain track was easily distinguished, leading on into the 
forest. The trellis closed like agate, and it seemed as if art 
had lent a hand to the concealment of the track. The foot- 
prints of several horses were plainly visible in the sandy 
bottom of the road. 

The men entered in single file. With some difficulty Major 
Blossom and his great horse squeezed themselves through, 
and we moved along under the shady and silent woods. 

After a march of several miles, fording numerous streams, 
and working our way through tangled thickets of nopal and 
wild maguey, an opening suddenly appeared through the 
trees. Emerging from the forest, a brilliant scene burst 
upon us. A large clearing, evidently once cultivated, but 
now in a state of neglect, stretched out before us. Broad 
fields, covered with flowers of every hue — thickets of bloom- 
ing rose-trees — belts of the yellow helianthus — and groups 
of cocoa-trees and half-wild plantains, formed a picture 
singular and beautiful. 

On one side, and close to the border of the forest, could 
be seen the roof of a house, peering above groves of glisten- 
ing foliage, and thither we marched. 

We entered a lane, with its guardarayas of orange-trees 
planted in rows upon each side, and meeting overhead. 

The sunlight fell through this leafy screen with a mellowed 
and delicious softness, and the perfume of flowers was 
wafted on the air. 


100 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


The rich music of birds was around us; and the loveliness 
of the scene was heightened by the wild neglect which 
characterized it. 

On approaching the house we halted ; and after charging 
the men to remain silent, I advanced alone to reconnoiter. 




CHAPTER XII. 

DVENTUARE WITH A CAYMAN. 

HE lane suddenly opened upon a pas- 
ture, but within this a thick hedge of 
jessamines, forming a circle, barred 
the view. 

In this circle was the house, whose 
roof only could be seen from without. 

Not finding any opening through the jessamines, I parted 
the leaves with my hands, and looked through. The picture 
was dream-like ; so strange, I could scarcely credit my 
senses. 

On the crest of the little hillock stood a house of rare 
construction — unique and unlike anything I had ever seen. 
The sides were formed of bamboos, closely picketed, and 
laced together by fibers of the pita. The roof — a thatch of 
palm-leaves — projected far over the eaves, rising to a cone, 
and terminating in a small wooden cupola with a cross. 
There were no windows. The walls themselves were trans- 
lucent ; and articles of furniture could be distinguished 
through the insterstices of the bamboos. 

A curtain of green barege, supported by a rod and rings, 
formed the door. "J’his was drawn, discovering an ottoman 
near the entrance, and an elegant harp. 



loi 


102 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


The whole structure presented the coup-d’ceil of a huge 
bird-cage, with its wires of gold ! 

The grounds were in keeping with the house. In these 
the evidence of neglect, which had been noticed without 
existed no longer. Every object appeared to be under the 
training of a watchful solicitude. 

A thick grove of olives, with their gnarled and spreading 
branches and dark green leaves, stretched rearward, forming 
a background to the picture. Right and left grew clumps of 



Mammoth Water Lilies of Tropical America. 

orange and lime trees. Golden fruit and flowers of brilliant 
hues mingled with their yellow leaves : spring and autumn 
blended upon the same branches ! 

Rare shrubs — exotics — grew out of large vessels of ja- 
panned earthenware, whose brilliant tints added to the volup- 
tuous coloring of the scene. 

A Jet d'eau, crystalline, rose to the height of twenty feet, 
and, returning in a shower of prismatic globules, stole away 
through abed of water-lilies and other aquatic plants, losing 
itself in a grove of lofty plantain-trees. These, growing 


ADVENTURE WITH A CAYMAN. I03 

from the cool watery bed, flung out their broad glistening 
leaves to the length of twenty feet. 

No signs of human life met the eye. The birds alone 
seemed to revel in the luxuriance of this tropical paradise. 
A brace of pea-fowl stalked over the parterre in all the pride 
of their rainbow plumage. In the fountain appeared the tall 
form of a flamingo, his scarlet color contrasting with the 
green leaves of the water-lily. Songsters were trilling in 
every tree. The mock-bird, perched upon the highest limb, 
was mimicking the monotonous tones of the parrot. The 
toucans and trogons flashed from grove to grove, or balanced 
their bodies under the spray of the jet d'eaii ; while the hum- 
ming-birds hung upon the leaves of some honeyed blossom, 
or prinkled over the parterre like straying sunbeams. 

I was running my eye over this dreamlike picture, in search 
of a human figure, when the soft, metallic accents of a female 
voice reached me from the grove of plantains. It was a 
burst of laughter — clear and ringing. Then followed an- 
other, with short exclamations, and the sound of water as if 
dashed and sprinkled with a light hand. 

What must be the Eve of a paradise like this ! The silver 
tones were full of promise. It was the first female voice that 
had greeted my ears for a month, and chords long slumber- 
ing vibrated under the exquisite touch. 

My heart bounded. My first impulse was “ forward ! ” 
which I obeyed by springing through the jessamines. But 
the fear of intruding upon a scene a la Diane changed my de- 
termination, and my next thought was to make a quiet retreat. 

I was preparing to return, and had thrust one leg back 
through the hedge, when a harsh voice — apparently that of 
a man — mingled with the silvery tones. 

“ Anda I — anda ! — hace mucho calor. Vamos a volverP 
(Hasten ! — it is hot. Let us return.) 

Ah no, Pepel un raiito mas." (Ah, no, Pepe ! a little 
while longer.) 


104 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Vaya, carrambo ! ” (Quick, then !) 

Again the clear laughter rang out, mingled with the clap- 
ping of hands and short exclamations of delight. 

“ Come, ” thought I, once more entering the parterre, “ as 
there appears to be one of my own sex here already, it can- 
not be very mat d propos to take a peep at this amusement 
whatever it be.” 

I approached the row of plantain-trees, whose leaves 
screened the speakers from view. 

Lupel Lupelmiral que bonito I (Lupe ! Lupe! Look 
here ! What a pretty thing !) 

pobrecito I echalo^ Luz^ echalo.'' (Ah! poor little 
thing ! fling it back, Luz.) 

“ Voy luegoP (Presently.) 

I stooped down, and silently parted the broad silken leaves. 
The sight was divine ! 

Within lay a circular tank, or basin, of crystal water, sev- 
eral rods in diameter, and walled in on all sides by the high 
screen of glossy plantains, whose giant leaves, stretching out 
horizontally, sheltered it from the rays of the sun. 

A low' parapet of mason-work ran around, forming the 
circumference of the circle. This was japanned with a spe- 
cies of porcelain, whose deep coloring of blue, and green 
and yellow, was displayed in a variety of grotesque figures. 

A strong jet boiled up in the center, by the refraction of 
whose ripples the gold and red fish seemed multiplied into 
myriads. 

At a distant point a bed of water-lilies hung out from the 
parapet ; and the long, thin neck of a swan rose gracefully 
over the leaves. Another, his mate, stood upon the bank, 
drying her snowy pinions in the sun. 

A different object attracted me, depriving me for awhile of 
the power of action. 

In the water, and near the jet, were two beautiful girls, 
clothed in a sort of sleeveless green tunic, loosely girdled. 



ADVENTURE WITH A CAYMAN. I05 

'Fhey were immersed to the waist. So pellucid was the 
water that their little feet were distinctly visible at the bot- 
tom, shining like gold. 

Luxuriant hair fell down in broad flakes, partially shroud- 
ing the snowy development of their arms and shoulders. 


Their forms were strikingly similar— tall, graceful, fully de- 
veloped, and characterized by that eliptical line of beauty 
that, in the female form more than in any other earthly 
object, illustrates the far-famed curve of Hogarth. 

Their features, too, were alike. “ Sisters ! one would ex- 
claim, and yet their complexions were strikingly dissimilar. 
The blood, mantling darker in the veins of one, lent an olive 


House Built of Bamboos. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


io6 

tinge to the soft and wax-like surface of her skin, while the 
red upon her cheeks and lips presented an admixture of 
purple. Her hair, too, v/as black ; and a dark shading 
along the upper lip — a mustache, in fact — soft and silky 
as the tracery of a crayon, contrasted with the dazzling white- 
ness of her teeth. Her eyes were black, large, and almond- 
shaped — with that expression which looks over one ; and her 
whole appearance formed a type of that beauty which we as- 
sociate with the Abencerrage and the Alhambra. This was 
evidently the elder. 

The other was the type of a distinct class of beauty — the 
golden-haired blonde. Her eyes were large, globular, and 
blue as turquoise. Her hair of a chastened yellow, long and 
luxuriant ; while her skin, less soft and waxen than that of her 
sister, presented an effusion of roseate blushes that extended 
along the snowy whiteness of her arms. These, in the sun, 
appeared as bloodless and transparent as the tiny gold-fish 
that quivered in her uplifted hand. 

I was riveted to the spot. My first impulse was to retire, 
silently and modestly, but the power of a strange fascination 
for a moment prevented me. Was it a dream ? 

Ah! que barbaral pobrecito — ito — -ito ! ” (Ah! what a 
barbarian you are ! poor little thing I) 

“ ComeremosP (We shall eat it.) 

'‘''For Dios I no I echalo^ Luz^ b tirare la agua en sus ojos.” 
(Goodness ! no ! fling it in, Luz, or I shall throw water in your 
eyes.) And the speaker stooped as if to execute the threat. 

“ Va — no ” (Now I shall not), said Luz, resolutely. 

“ Guarda tel ” (Look out, then 1) 

The brunette placed her little hands close together, form- 
ing with their united palms a concave surface, and com- 
menced dashing water upon the perverse blonde. 

The latter instantly dropped the gold-fish, and retaliated. 

An exciting and animated contest ensued. The bright 
globulets flew around their heads, and rolled down their 


ADVENTURE WITH A CAYMAN. 


107 

glittering tresses, as from the pinions of a swan ; while their 
clear laughter rang out at intervals, as one or the other ap- 
peared victorious. 

A hoarse voice drew my attention from this interesting 
spectacle. Looking whence it came, my eye rested upon a 
huge negress, stretched under a cocoa-tree, who had raised 
herself on one arm, and was laughing at the contest. 

It was her voice, then, I had mistaken for that of a man ! 

Becoming sensible of my intrusive position, I turned to re- 
treat, when a shrill cry reached me from the pond. 

The swans, with a frightened energy, shrieked and flapped 
over the surface — the gold-fish shot to and fro, like sunbeams, 
and leaped out of the water, quivering and terrified — and 
the birds on all sides screamed and chattered, 

I sprang forward to ascertain the cause of this strange 
commotion. My eye fell upon the negress, who had risen, 
and, running out upon the parapet with uplifted arms, 
shouted in terrified accents : 

“ Valgame Dios ninas ! El cayman I el cayman ! ” 

I looked across to the other side of the pond. A fear- 
ful object met my eyes — the cayman of Mexico ! The hide- 
ous monster was slowly crawling over the low wall, dragging 
his lengthened body from a bed of aquatic plants. 

Already his short fore-arms, squamy and corrugated, rested 
upon the inner edge of the parapet — his shoulders project- 
ing as if in the act to spring! His scale-covered back, with 
its long serrated ridge, glittered with a slippery moistness ; 
and his eyes, usually dull, gleamed fierce and lurid from their 
prominent sockets. 

I had brought with me a light rifle. It was but the work 
of a moment to unsling and level it. The sharp crack fol- 
lowed, and the ball impinged between the monster’s eyes, 
glancing harmlessly from his hard skull, as though it had 
been a plate of steel. The shot was an idle one — perhaps 
worse ; for, stung to madness with the stunning shock the 


io8 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


reptile sprang far out into the water, and made directly for 
its victims. 

The girls, who had long since given over their mirthful 
contest, seemed to have lost all presence of mind ; and, in- 
stead of making for the bank, stood locked in each other^s 
arms, terrified and trembling. 

Their symmetrical forms fell into an agonized embrace ; 
and their rounded arms, olive and roseate, laced each other, 
and twined across their quivering bodies. 

Their faces were turned to heaven, as though they expected 
succor from above— a group that rivaled the Laocoon. 

With a spring I cleared the parapet and drawing my 
sword, dashed madly across the basin. 

The girls were near the center ; but the cayman had got 
the start of me, and the water, three feet deep, impeded my 
progress. The bottom of the tank, too, was slippery, and I 
fell once or twice on my hands. I rose again, and with 
frantic energy plunged forward, all the while calling upon 
the bathers to make for the parapet. 

Notwithstanding my shouts, the terrified girls made no 
effort to save themselves. They were incapable from terror. 

On came the cayman with the velocity of vengeance. It 
was a fearful moment. Already he swam at a distance of 
less than six paces from his prey, his long snout projecting 
from the water, his gaunt jaws displaying their quadruple 
rows of sharp glistening teeth. 

I shouted despairingly. I was baffled by the deep water. 
I had nearly twice the distance before I could interpose 
myself between the monster and its victims. 

“ I shall be too late ! ” 

Suddenly I saw that the cayman had swerved. In his 
eagerness he had struck a subaqueous pipe of the jet. 

It delayed him only a moment ; but in that moment I had 
passed the statue-like group, and stood ready to receive his 
aHacki 


ADVENTURE WITH A CAYMAN. 


109 


A la orillal d la orilla / (To the bank ! to the bank!) 
I shouted, pushing the terrified girls with one hand, while 
with the other I held my sword at arm’s length in the face 
of the advancing reptile. 

The girls now, for the first time awaking from their 
lethargy of terror, rushed towards the bank. 

On came the monster, gnashing his teeth in the fury of 
disappointment, and uttering fearful cries. 

As soon as he had got within reach I aimed a blow at his 
head ; but the light saber glinted from the fleshless skull 
with the ringing of steel to steel. 

The blow, however, turned him out of his course, and, 
missing his aim, he passed me like an arrow. I looked around 
with a feeling of despair. “ Thank heaven 1 they are safe I ’’ 

I felt the clammy scales rub against my thigh ; and I 
leaped aside to avoid the stroke of his tail, as it lashed the 
water into foam. 

Again the monster turned, and came on as before. 

This time I did not attempt to cut, but thrust the sabre 
directly for his throat. The cold blade snapped between 
his teeth like an icicle. Not above twelve inches remained 
with the hilt ; and with this I hacked and fought with the 
energy of despair. 

My situation had now grown critical indeed. The girls 
had reached the bank, and stood screaming upon the parapet. 

At length the elder seized upon a pole, and, lifting it 
with all her might, leaped back into the basin, and was 
hastening to my rescue, when^a stream of fire was poured 
through the leaves of the plantains : I heard a sharp crack 
the short humming whiz of a bullet — and a large form, 
followed by half a dozen others, emerged from the grove, 
and, rushing over the wall, plunged into the pond. 

I heard a loud plashing in the water— the shouts of men, 
the clashing of bayonets ; and then saw the reptile roll over, 
pierced by a do«en wounds^ 


Spearing a Sea-cow, or Manatee. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

DON COSME ROSALES. 

UR safe, cap’n ! ” It was Lin- 
coln’s voice. Around me stood a 
dozen of the men, up to their 
waists. Little Jack, too (his head 
and forage-cap just appearing 
above the surface of the water), 
stood with his eighteen inches of 
steel buried in the carcass of the 
dead reptile. I could not help 
smiling at the ludicrous picture. 

“ Yes, safe,” answered I, panting for breath ; “ safe — you 
came in good time, though.” 

“ We heern yur shot, cap’n,” said Lincoln, “ an’ we guessed 
yur didn’t shoot without somethin’ ter shoot for ; so I tuk 
half a dozen files and kim up.” 

“ You acted right, sergeant ; but where are the ” 

I was looking towards the edge of the tank where I had 
last seen the girls. They had disappeared. 

“ If yez mane the faymales,” answered Chane, “ they’re 
vamosed through the threes. Be Saint Patrick ! the black 
one’s a thrump anyhow 1 She looks for all the world like 
them bewtiful crayoles of Dimmerary.” 
izo 



DON COSME ROSALES. 


Ill 


Saying this, he turned suddenly round, and commenced 
driving his bayonet furiously into the dead cayman, exclaim- 
ing between the thrusts : 

“ Och, ye divil ! bad luck to yer ugly carcass! You’re a 
nate-looking baste to interfere with a pair of illigant cray- 
thers ! Be the crass ! he’s all shill, boys. Och, mother o’ 
Moses ! I can’t find a saft spot in him ! ” 

We climbed out upon the parapet, and the soldiers com- 
menced wiping their wet guns. 

Clayley appeared at this moment, filing round the pond 
at the head of the detachment. As I explained the adven- 
ture to the lieutenant, he laughed heartily. 

“ By Jove ! it will never do for a despatch,” said he ; “ one 
killed on the side of the enemy, and on ours not a wound. 
There is one, however, who may be reported ‘badly 
scared. ’ ” 

“Who?” I asked. 

“ Why, who but the bold Blossom ? ” 

“ But where is he ? ” 

“ Heaven only knows I The last I saw of him, he was 
screening himself behind an old ruin. I wouldn’t think it 
strange if he was off to camp — that is, if he believes he can 
find his way back again.” 

As Clayley said this, he burst into a loud yell of laughter. 

It was with difficulty I could restrain myself ; for, looking 
in the direction indicated by the lieutenant, I saw a bright 
object, which I at once recognized as the major’s face. 

He had drawn aside the broad plantain-leaves, and was 
peering cautiously through, with a look of the most ludicrous 
terror. His face only was visible, round and luminous, like 
the full moon ; and like her, too variegated with light and 
shade, for fear had produced spots of white and purple over 
the surface of his capacious cheeks. 

As soon as the major saw how the “ land lay,” he came 
blowing and blustering through the bushes like an elephant ; 


II2 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


and it now became apparent that he carried his long saber 
drawn and flourishing. 

“ Bad luck, after all ! ” said he, as he marched round the 
pond with a bold stride. “ That’s all - is it ? ” he continued, 
pointing to the dead cayman. “ Bah ! I was in hopes we’d 
have a brush with the yellow-skins.” 

“ No, major,” said I, trying to look serious ; “ we are not 
so fortunate.” 

“ I have no doubt, however,” said Clayley with a mali- 
cious wink, “ but that we’ll have them here in a squirrel’s 
jump. They must have heard the report of our guns.” 

A complete change became visible in the major’s bearing. 
The point of his saber dropped slowly to the ground, and 
the blue and white spots began to array themselves afresh 
on his great red cheeks. 

“ Don’t you think, captain,” said he, “ we’ve gone far 
enough into the blasted country ? There’s no mules in it — 
I can certify there’s not — not a single mule. Had we not 
better return to camp.? ” 

Before I could reply, an object appeared that drew our 
attention, and heightened the mosaic upon the major’s cheeks. 

A man, strangely attired, was seen running down the slope 
towards the spot where we were standing. 

“ Guerillas, by Jove ! ” exclaimed Clayley, in a voice of 
feigned terror; and he pointed to the scarlet sash which was 
twisted around the man’s waist. 

The major looked round for some object where he might 
shelter himself in case of a skirmish. He was sidling be- 
hind a high point of the parapet, when the stranger rushed 
forward, and, throwing both arms about his neck, poured 
forth a perfect cataract of Spanish, in which the word gracms 
was of frequent occurrence. 

“ What does the man mean with his grashes ? ” exclaimed 
the major, struggling to free himself from the Mexican. 

But the latter did not hear him, for his eye at that mo- 


DON COSME ROSALES. 


113 


merit rested upon my dripping habiliments ; and, dropping 
the major, he transferred his embrace and gf'acias to me. 

“ Senor Capitan,” he said, still speaking in Spanish, and 
hugging me like a bear, “accept my thanks. Ah, sir ! you 
have saved my children ; how can I show you my grati- 
tude?” 

Here followed a multitude of those complimentary expres- 
sions peculiar to the language of Cervantes, which ended by 
his offering me his house and all it contained. 

I bowed in acknowledgment of his courtesy, apologizing 
for being so ill prepared to receive his “hug,” as I observed 
that my saturated vestments had wet the old fellow to the 
skin. 

I had now time to examine the stranger, who was a tall, 
thin, sallow old gentleman, with a face at once Spanish and 
intelligent. His hair was white and short, while a mustache, 
somewhat grizzled, shaded his lips. Jet-black brows pro- 
jected over a pair of keen and sparkling eyes. His dress 
was a roundabout of the finest white linen, with vest and 
pantaloons of the same material — the latter fastened round 
the waist by a scarf of bright red silk. Shoes of green 
morocco covered his small feet, while a broad Guayaquil hat 
shaded his face from the sun. 

Though his costume was transatlantic — speaking in ref- 
erence to Old Spain — there was that in his air and manner 
that bespoke him a true hidalgo. 

After a moment’s observation I proceeded, in my best 
Spanish, to express my regret for the fright which the young 
ladies — his daughters, I presumed — had suffered. 

The Mexican looked at me with a slight appearance of 
surprise. 

“ Why, Senor Capitan,” said he, “ your accent— you are 
a foreigner ? ” 

“ A foreigner ! To Mexico, did you mean ? ” 

“Yes, senor. Is it not so ? ” 

8 


114 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


Oh ! of course,” answered I, smiling, and somewhat 
puzzled in turn. 

“ And how long have you been in the army, Senor Cap- 
itan ? ” 

“ But a short time.” 

“ How do you like Mexico, senor ? ” 

“I have seen but little of it as yet.” 

“ Why, how long have you been in the country, then ?” 

“Three days,” answered I ; “we landed on the 9th.” 

“ For Dios I three days, and in our army already,” muttered 
the Spaniard, throwing up his eyes in unaffected surprise. 

I began to think I was interrogated by a lunatic. 

“May I ask what countryman you are ? ” continued the old 
gentleman. 

“ What countryman ? An American, of course.” 

“ An American } ” 

“ Un Americano” repeated I ; for we were conversing in 
Spanish. 

“ Y son esos Americanos ? ” (And are these Americans?) 
quickly demanded my new acquaintance. 

“ Si, senor” replied I. 

“ Carrambo ! ” shouted the Spaniard, with a sudden leap, 
his eyes almost starting from their sockets. 

“ I should say, not exactly Americans,” I added. “ Many 
of them are Irish, and French, and Germans, and Swedes, 
and Swiss ; yet they are all Americans now.” 

But the Mexican did not stay to hear my explanation. 
After recovering from the first shock of surprise, he had 
bounded through the grove ; and with a wave of his hand, 
and the ejaculation '•^Esperate I ” disappeared among the 
plantains. The men, who had gathered around the lower 
end of Hm basin, burst out into a roar of laughter, which I 
did not attempt to repress. The look of terrified astonish- 
ment of the old Don had been too much for my own gravity ; 
and I could not help being amused at the conversation that 


The Man-eater. An Exciting Scene in Tropical America. 















DON COSME ROSALES. IlS 

ensued among the soldiers. They were at some distance, 
yet I could overhear their remarks. 

“ That Mexikin’s an unhospitable cuss ! muttered Lin- 
coln, with an expression of contempt. 

“ He might av axed the captain to dhrink, after savin’ 
such a pair of illigant craythers,” said Chane. 

“Sorra dhrap’s in the house, Murt ; the place looks dry,” 
remarked another son of the Green Isle. 

Och ! an’ it’s a beautiful cage, anyhow,” returned Chane ; 
and beautiful birds in it, too. It puts me in mind of ould 
Dimmerary ; but there we had the liquor, the raal rum — 
oshins of it, alanna ! ” 

“ That ’ere chap’s a greelye, I strongly ’spect,” whispered 
one, a regular downcast Yankee. 

“ A what ” asked his companion. 

“Why, a greelye — one o’ them ’ere Mexikin robbers.” 

“ Arrah, now ! did yez see the rid sash ? ” inquired an 
Irishman. 

“Thim’s captin’s,” suggested the Yankee. 

“ He’s a captain or a kurnel ; I’ll bet high on that.” 

“ What did he say, Nath, as he was running off ? ” 

“ I don’t know ’zactly — somethin’ that sounded mighty 
like ‘ spearin ’ on us.” 

“ He’s a lanzeer then, by jingo ! ” 

“ He had better try on his spearin’,” said another ; “ there’s 
shootin’ before spearin’ — mighty good ground, too, behind 
this hyur painted wall.” 

“The old fellow was mighty frindly at first; what got 
into him, anyhow ? ” 

“ Raoul says he offered to give the captain his house and 
all the furnishin’s.” 

“ Och, mother o’ Moses ! and thim illigant girls, too ? ” 

“ Ov coorse.” 

“ By my sowl ! an’ if I was the captain, I’d take him at 
his word, and lave off fightin’ intireiy^” 


ii6 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ It is delf,” said a soldier, referring to the material of 
which the parapet was constructed. 

No, it ain’t.” 

“ It’s chaney, then.” 

“ No, nor chaney either.” 

‘ Well, what is it ? ” 

“ It’s only a stone wall painted, you greenhorn ! ” 

“ Stone-thunder ! it’s solid delf, I say.” 

“ Try it with your bayonet, Jim.” 

Crick — crick — crick — crinelll reached my ears. Turning 
round, I saw that one of the men had commenced breaking 
off the japanned work of the parapet with his bayonet. 

“ Stop that ! ” I shouted to the man. 

The remark of Chane that followed, althpugh uttered 
sotto voce^ I could distinctly hear. It was sufficiently amus- 
ing.” 

“ The captain don’t want yez to destroy what’ll be his own 
some day, when he marries one of thim young Dons. Here 
comes the owld one; and, by the powers! he’s got a big 
paper ; he’s goin’ to make over the property ! ” 

Laughing, I looked round, and saw that the Don was 
returning, sure enough. He hurried up, holding out a 
large sheet of parchment. 

“ Well, senor, what’s this ? ” I inquired. 

“jW? soy Mexicano — soy Espanol I (I am no Mexican — I 
am a Spaniard), said he, with the expression of a true 
hidalgo. 

Casting my eye carelessly over the document, I perceived 
that it was a safe-guard from the Spanish consul at Vera 
Cruz, certifying that the bearer, Don Cosme Rosales, was a 
native of Spain. 

“Senor Rosales,” said I, returning the paper, “this was 
not necessary. The interesting circumstances under which 
we have met should have secured you good treatment, even 
were you a Mexican and we the barbarians we have been 


DON COSME ROSALES. II7 

represented. We have come to make war, not with peace- 
ful citizens, but with a rabble soldiery.” 

Es verdad. You are wet, senor.? you are hungry ? ” 

I could not deny that I was both the one and the other. 

“ You need refreshment, gentlemen ; will you come to my 
house ? ” 

“ Permit me, senor, to introduce to you Major Blossom — 
Lieutenant Clayley — Lieutenant Oakes : Don Cosme Ro- 
'sales, gentlemen.” 

My friends and the Don bowed to each other. The major 
had now recovered his complacency. 

“ Vamonos caballeros^' (Come on, gentlemen), said the 
Don, starting towards the house. 

“ But your soldiers, capitan ? ” added he, stopping sud- 
denly. 

“ They will remain here,” I rejoined. 

“ Permit me to send them some dinner.” 

“ Oh ! certainly,” replied I ; “ use your own pleasure, 
Don Cosmd ; but do not put your household to any incon- 
venience.” 

In a few minutes we found our way to the house, which 
was neither more nor less than the cage-looking structure 
already described. 





^ASAJV adentro^ sen- 
ores” said Don Cos- 
md, drawing aside the 
curtain of the rancho, 
and beckoning us to enter. 

“ Ha ! ” exclaimed the major, 
struck with the coup-d'oeil of 
the interior. 

“ Be seated, gentlemen. Ya vuelvo,” (I will return in an 
instant.) 

So saying, Don Cosme disappeared into a little porch in 
the back, partially screened from observation by a close 
network of woven cane. 

“ Very pretty, by Jove ! ” said Clayley, in a low voice. 

“ Pretty indeed ! ” echoed the major, with one of his cus- 
tomary asseverations. 

“ Stylish, one ought rather to say, to do it justice.” 

“ Stylish ! ” again chimed in the major, repeating his 
formula. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A MEXICAN DINNER. 


Il8 


A MEXICAN DINNER. 


II9 

“ Rosewood chairs and tables,” continued Clayley ; “a 
harp, guitar, piano, sofas, ottomans, carpets knee-deep — 
whew ! ” 

Not thinking of the furniture, I looked around the room, 
strangely bewildered. 

“ Ha ! ha ! what perplexes you, captain ? ” asked Clayley. 

“Nothing.” 

“Ah ! the girls you spoke of — the nymphs of the pond ; 
but where the deuce are they ? ” 

“ Ay, where } ” I asked, with a strange sense of uneasiness. 

“ Girls ! what girls ? ” inquired the major, who had not 
yet learned the exact nature of our aquatic adventure. 

Here the voice of Don Cosme was heard calling out — 

“ Pepe ! Ramon! Francisco! bring dinner. A7ida ! 
anda ! ” (Be quick !) 

“Who on earth is the old fellow calling?” asked the 
major, with some concern in his manner. “ I see no one.” 

Nor could we; so we all rose up together, and approached 
that side of the building that looked rearward. 

The house, to all appearance, had but one apartment — 
the room in which we then were. The only point of this 
screened from observation was the little veranda into which 
Don Cosme had entered ; but this was not large enough to 
contain the number of persons who might be represented 
by the names he had called out. 

Two smaller buildings stood under the olive-trees in the 
rear ; but these, like the house, were transparent^ and not a 
human figure appeared within them. We could see through 
the trunks of the olives a clear distance of a hundred yards. 
Beyond this, the mezquite and the scarlet leaves of the 
wild maguey marked the boundary of the forest. 

It was equally puzzling to us whither the girls had gone, 
or whence “Pepe, Ramon, and Francisco” were to come. 

The tinkling of a little bell startled us from our conjec- 
tures, and the voice of Don Cosme was heard inquiring — 


120 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


Have you any favorite dish, gentlemen ? ” 

Some one answered, “ No.” 

“Curse me!” exclaimed the major, “I believe he can get 
anything we may call for — raise it out of the ground by 
stamping his foot or ringing a bell I — Didn’t I tell you } ” 

This exclamation was uttered in consequence of the ap- 
pearance of a train of well-dressed servants, five or six in 
number, bringing waiters with dishes and decanters. They 
entered from the porch ; but how did they get into it 
Certainly not from the woods without, else we should have 
seen them as they approached the cage. 

The major uttered a terrible invocation, adding in a hoarse 
whisper, “ This must be the Mexican Aladdin ! ” 

I confess I was not less puzzled than he. Meanwhile the 
servants came and went, going empty, and returning loaded. 
In less than half an hour the table fairly creaked under the 
weight of a sumptuous dinner. This is no figure of speech. 
There were dishes of massive silver, with huge flagons of 
the same metal, and even cups of gold ! 

“ Senores, vamos d corner^' (Come, let us eat, gentlemen), 
said Don Cosme, politely motioning us to be seated. “I 
fear that you will not be pleased with my cuisine: — it is 
purely Mexican — estilo del paisl^ 

To say that the dinner was not a good one would be to 
utter a falsehood, and contradict the statement of Major 
George Blossom, of the U. S. quartermaster’s department, 
who afterwards declared that it was the best dinner he had 
ever eaten in his life. 

Turtle soup first. 

“ Perhaps you would prefer julienne or vermicelli^ gentle- 
men ?” inquired the Don. 

“Thank you; your turtle is very fine,” replied I, neces- 
sarily the interpreter of the party. 

“ Try some of the aguacate — it will improve the flavor of 
your soup. ” 



A MEXICAN DINNER. 12 1 

One of the waiters handed round a dark, olive-colored 
fruit of an oblong shape, about the size of a large pear. 

Ask him how it is used, captain,” said the major to me. 
“ Oh ! I beg your pardon, gentlemen. I had forgotten 


Bread Fruit of the Tropics. When baked it is an excellent sub- 
stitute for biscuit. Diameter 4 to 5 inches. 

that some of our edibles may be strange to you : simply pare 
off the rind, and slice it thus.’' 

We tried the experiment, but could not discover any pe- 
culiar improvement in the flavor of the soup. The pulp of 


122 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


the aguacate seemed singularly insipid to our northern 
palates. 

Fish, as with us, and of the finest quality, formed the 
second course. 

A variety of dishes were now brought upon the table ; 
most of them new to us, but all piquant, pleasant to the taste, 
and peculiar. 

The major tried them all, determined to find out which he 
might like best — a piece of knowledge that he said would 
serve him upon some future occasion. 

The Don seemed to take a pleasure in helping the major, 
whom he honored by the title of “ Senor-Coronel.” 

“ Puchero^ senor coronel ? ” 

“ Thank you, sir,’" grunted the major, and tried the puchero. 

“ Allow me to help you to a spoonful of moltP 

“ With pleasure, Don Cosine.” 

The mold suddenly disappeared down the major’s capa- 
cious throat. 

“ Try some of this chilk reUenoT 

“ By all means,” answered the major. “ Ah, by Jove ! hot 
as fire ! — whew ! ” 

'■^Pica! pica!” answered Don Cosme, pointing to his 
thorax, and smiling at the wry faces the major was making. 
“ Wash it down, senor, with a glass of this claret — or here, 
Pepe ! Is the Johannisberg cool yet Bring it in, then. 
Perhaps you prefer champagne, senores ? ” 

“Thank you; do not trouble yourself, Don Cosme.” 

“ No trouble, captain — bring champagne. Here, senor 
coronel — try the guisa de pato.” 

“ Thank you,” stammered the major ; “ you are very kind. 
Curse the thing ! how it burns ! ” 

“ Do you think he understands English ? ” inquired Clay- 
ley of me, in a whisper. 

“ I should think not,” I replied. 

“ Well, then, I wish to say aloud that this old chap’s a 


A MEXICAN DINNER. 123 

superb old gent. What say you, major ? Don’t you wish 
we had him on the lines ? ” 

“ I wish his kitchen were a little nearer the lines,” replied 
the other, with a wink. 

“ Senor coronel, permit me ” 

“ What is it, my dear Don ? ” inquired the major. 

“ Pasteles de MoctezumaP 

“ Oh, certainly ! I say, lads : I don’t know what the 
plague I’m eating — it’s not bad to take, though.” 



Mexican Iguana. 


“ Senor coronel, allow me to help you to a guana steak.” 

“ A guana steak ! ” echoed the major, in some surprise. 

Si, senor'' replied Don Cosine, holding the steak on his 
fork. 

“ A guana steak 1 Do you think, lads, he means the ugly 
things we saw at Lobos ?” 

“ To be sure — why not ? ” 

‘•Then, by Jove, I’m through! I can’t go lizards. 
Thank you, my dear Don Cosme ; I believe I have dined.” 

“ Try this ; it is very tender, I assure you,” insisted Don 
Cosme. 

“Come, try it, major, and report,” cried Clayley. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


124 

“ Good — you’re like the apothecary that poisoned his 
dog to try the effect of his nostrums. Well ” — with an ex- 
clamation — “ here goes ! It can’t be very bad, seeing how 
our friend gets it down. Delicious, by Jupiter ! tender as 
chicken — good, good ! ” — and amidst sundry similar ejacu- 
lations the major ate his first guana steak. 

“ Gentlemen, here is an ortolan pie. I can recommend it 
— the birds are in season.” 

“ Reed-birds, by Jove ! ” said the major, recognizing his 
favorite dish. 

An incredible number of these creatures disappeared in 
an incredibly short time. 

The dinner-dishes were at length removed, and dessert 
followed : cakes and creams, and jellies of various kinds^ 
and blancmange, and a profusion of the most luxurious 
fruits. The golden orange, the ripe pine, the pale green lime, 
the juicy grape, the custard-like cherimolla, the zapote, the 
granadilla, the pitahaya, the tuna, the mamay ; with dates, 
figs, almonds, plantains, bananas, and a dozen other species of 
fruits, piled upon salvers of silver, were set before us : in fact, 
every product of the tropical clime that could excite a new 
nerve of the sense of taste. We were fairly astonished at the 
profusion of luxuries that came from no one knew where. 

“ Come, gentlemen, try a glass of cura^oa. Senor coronel, 
allow me the pleasure. 

“ Sir, your very good health.” 

“ Senor coronel, would you prefer a glass of Majorca ?” 

“ Thank you.” 

“ Or perhaps you would choose Pedro Ximenes. I have 
some old Pedro Ximenes.^’ 

“ Either, my dear Don Cosme — either.” 

“ Bring both, Ramon ; and bring a couple of bottles of 
the Madeira — sello verde ” (green seal). 

“ As I am a Christian, the old gentleman’s a conjurer ! ” 
muttered the major, now in the best humor possible. 


A MEXICAN DINNER. 


125 

“ I wish he would conjure up. something else than his 
confounded wine bottles,” thought I, becoming impatient at 
the non-appearance of the ladies. 

“ Cafe^ sehores ? ” A servant entered. 

Coffee was handed round in cups of Sevres china. 

“You smoke, gentlemen ? Would you prefer a Havana? 
Here are some sent me from Cuba by a friend. I believe 
they are good ; or, if you would amuse yourself with a cigar- 
rito, here are Campeacheanos. These are the country cigars 
— piiros^ as we call them. I would not recommend them.” 

“ A Havana for me,” said the major, helping himself at 
the same time to a fine-looking “ regalia.” 

I had fallen into a somewhat painful reverie. 

I began to fear that, with all his hospitality, the Mexican 
would allow us to depart without an introduction to his 
family ; and I had conceived a strong desire to speak with 
the two lovely beings whom I had already seen, but more 
particularly with the brunette, whose looks and actions had 
deeply impressed me. So strange is the mystery of love ! 
My heart had already made its choice. 

I was suddenly aroused by the voice of Don Cosme, who 
had risen, and was inviting myself and comrades to join the 
ladies in the drawing-room. 

I started up so suddenly as almost to overturn one of the 
tables. 

“ Why, captain, what’s the matter ? ” said Clayley. “ Don 
Cosme is about to introduce us to the ladies. You’re not 
going to back out ? ” 

“ Certainly not,” stammered I, somewhat ashamed at my 
gaucherie. 

“ He says they’re in the drawing-room,” whispered the 
major, in a voice that betokened a degree of suspicion ; 
“ but where the plague that is. Heaven only knows. Stand 
by, my boys ! — are your pistols all right ? ” 

“ Pshaw, major ! for shame ! ” 



CHAPTER XV. 


A SUBTERRANEAN DRAWING-ROOM. 




HE mystery of the drawing- 
room, and the servants, and 
the dishes, was soon over. A 
descending stairway explained 
the enigma. 

“ Let me conduct you to my cave, 
gentlemen,” said the Spaniard : “I am 
half a subterranean. In the hot weather, and during the 
northers, we find it more agreeable to live under the ground. 
Follow me, sehores. ” 

We descended, with the exception of Oakes, who returned 
to look after the men. 

At the foot of the staircase we entered a hall brilliantly 
126 


A SUBTERRANEAN DRAWING-ROOM. 127 

lighted. The floor was without a carpet, and exhibited a 
mosaic of the finest marble. The walls were painted of a 
pale blue color, anil embellished by a series of pictures from 
the pencil of Murillo. These were framed in a costly and 
elegant manner. From the ceiling were suspended chande- 
liers of a curious and unique construction, holding in their 
outstretched branches wax candles of an ivory whiteness. 

Large vases of waxen flowers, covered with crystals, stood 
around the hall upon tables of polished marble. Other ar- 
ticles of furniture, candelabra, girandoles, gilded clocks, 
filled the outline. Broad mirrors reflected the different 
objects ; so that, instead of one apartment, this hall ap- 
peared only one of a continuous suite of splendid drawing- 
rooms. 

And yet, upon closer observation, there seemed to be no 
door leading from this hall, which, as Don Cosine informed 
his guests, was the ante-sala. 

Our host approached one of the large mirrors, and slightly 
touched a spring. The tinkling of a small bell was heard 
within ; and at the same instant the mirror glided back, re- 
flecting in its motion a series of brilliant objects, that for a 
moment bewildered our eyes with a blazing light. 

“ Pasan adeiitro, senores^"' said Don Cosine, stepping aside 
and waving us to enter. 

We walked into the drawing-room. The magnificence 
that greeted us seemed a vision — a glorious and dazzling 
hallucination — more like the gilded brilliance of some en- 
chanted palace than the interior of a Mexican gentlemaifls 
habitation. 

As we stood gazing with irresistible wonderment, Don 
Cosme opened a side-door, and called aloud, “ Ninas, ninas, 
ven aca I ” (Children, come hither !) 

Presently we heard several female voices, blended together 
like a medley of singing birds. 

They approached. We heard the rustling of silken dresses, 


128 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


the falling of light feet in the doorway, and three ladies en- 
tered — the sehora of Don Cosme, followed by her two beau- 
tiful daughters, the heroines of our aquatic adventure. 

These hesitated a moment, scanning our faces; then, 
with a cry of “ Nuestro Salvador I ’’ both rushed forward, and 
knelt, or rather crouched, at my feet, each of them clasping 
one of my hands and covering it with kisses. 

Their panting agitation, their flashing eyes, the silken 
touch of their delicate fingers, sent the blood rushing though 
my veins like a stream of lava ; but in their gentle accents, 
the simple ingenuousness of their expressions, the childlike 
innocence of their faces, I regarded them only as two beau- 
tiful children kneeling in the abandon of gratitude. 

Meanwhile Don Cosme had introduced Clayley and the 
major to his senora, whose baptismal name was Joaquina; 
and taking the young ladies one in each hand, he presented 
them as his daughters, Guadalupe and Maria de la Luz (Mary 
of the Light). 

“ Mama,” said Don Cosme, “ the gentlemen had not 
quite finished their cigars.” 

‘‘ Oh ! they can smoke here,” replied the sehora. 

“ Will the ladies not object to that ? ” I inquired. 

“ No — no — no ! ” ejaculated they simultaneously. 

“ Perhaps you will join us — w'e have heard that such is 
the custom of your country.” 

“ It was the custom,” said Don Cosme. “ At present the 
young ladies of Mexico are rather ashamed of the habit.” 

“ We no smoke — mama, yes,” added the elder — the 
brunette — whose name was Guadalupe. 

“ Ha ! you speak English ? ” 

“ Little Englis speak — no good Englis,” was the reply. 

“ Who taught you English ? ” I inquired, prompted by a 
mysterious curiosity. 

“Un American us teach — Don Emilio.” 

“ Ha ! an American ? ” 


A SUBTERRANEAN DRAWING-ROOM. I29 

“ Yes, senor,” said Don Cosine : “ a gentleman from 
Vera Cruz, who formerly visited our family.” 

I thought I could perceive a desire upon the part of our 
host not to speak further on this subject, and yet I felt a 
sudden, and, strange to say, a painful curiosity to know 
more about Don Emilio, the American, and his connection 
with our newly-made acquaintance. I can only explain this 
by asking the reader if he or she has not experienced a sim- 
ilar feeling while endeavoring to trace the unknown past 
of some being in whom either has lately taken an interest — 
an interest stronger than friendship ? 

That mama smoked was clear, for the old lady had al- 
ready gone through the process of unrolling one of the small 
cartouche-like cigars. Having re-rolled it between her fin- 
gers, she placed it within the gripe of a pair of small golden 
pincers. 

This done, she held one end to the coals that lay upon the 
brazero^ and ignited the paper. Then, taking the other end 
between her thin purplish lips, she breathed forth a blue 
cloud of aromatic vapor. 

After a few whiffs she invited t-he major to participate, 
offering him a cigarrito from her beaded cigancase. 

This being considered an especial favor, the major’s gal- 
lantry would not permit him to refuse. He took the cigar- 
rito, therefore ; but once in possession, he knew not how 
to use it. 

Imitating the senora, he opened the diminutive cartridge, 
spreading out the edges of the wrapper, but attempted in 
vain to re-roll it. 

The ladies, who had watched the process, seemed highly 
amused, particularly the younger, who laughed outright. 

“ Permit me, senor coronel,” said the Dona Joaquina, tak- 
ing the cigarrito from the major’s hand, and giving it a 
turn through her nimble fingers, which brought it all right 
again. 

9 


130 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Thus — now — hold your fingers thus. Do not press it : 
suave, suave. This end to the light — so — very well ! ” 

The major lit the cigar, and, putting it between his 
great thick lips, began to puff in a most energetic style. 

He had not cast off half a dozen whiffs when the fire, 
reaching his fingers, burned them severely, causing him to 
remove them suddenly from the cigarette. I’he wrapper 
then burst open ; and the loose pulverized tobacco by a sud- 
den inhalation rushed into his mouth and down his throat, 
causing him to cough and sputter in the most ludicrous man- 
ner. 

This was too much for the ladies, who, encouraged by the 
cachinnations of Clayley, laughed outright ; while the major 
with tears in his eyes, could be heard interlarding his cough- 
ing solo with all kinds of left-handed blessings. 

The scene ended by one of the young ladies offering the 
major a glass of water, which he drank off, effectually clear- 
ing the avenue of his throat. 

“ Will you try another, sehor coronel \ ” asked Dona 
Joaquina, with a smile. 

“ No, ma’am, thank yoji,” replied the major, and then a 
sort of internal subterraneous growl could be heard in his 
throat. 

The conversation continued in English, and we were 
highly amused at the attempts of our new acquaintances to 
express themselves in that language. 

After failing, on one occasion, to make herself understood, 
Guadalupe said, with some vexation in her manner : 

“ We wish brother was home come ; brother speak ver 
better Englis.” 

“ Where is he ? ” I inquired. 

“In the ceety — Vera Cruz.” 

Ha ! and when did you expect him ? ” 

“ Thees day — to-night — he home come.” 

“ Yes,” added the Sehora Joaquina, in Spanish : “ he went 


A SUBTERRANEAN DRAWING-ROOM. 13I 

to the city to spend a few days with a friend ; but he was to 
return to-day, and we are looking for him to arrive in the 
evening.” 

“ But how is he to get out ? ” cried the major, in his coarse, 
rough manner. 

“ How ? — why, senor ? ” asked the ladies in a breath, turn- 
ing deadly pale. 

“ Why, he can’t pass the pickets, ma’am,” answered the 
major. 

“ Explain, captain ; explain ! ” said the ladies, appealing 
to me with looks of anxiety. 

I saw that concealment would be idle. The major had 
fired the train. 

“ It gives me pain, ladies,” said I, speaking in Spanish, “ to 
inform you that you must be disappointed. I fear the return 
of your brother to-day is impossible.” 

“ But why, captain ? — why ? ” 

“ Our lines are completely around Vera Cruz, and all in- 
tercourse to and from the city is at an end.” 

Had a shell fallen into Don Cosme’s drawing-room, it 
could not have caused a greater change in the feelings of its 
inmates. Knowing nothing of military life, they had no idea 
that our presence there had drawn an impassable barrier 
between them and a much-loved member of their family. 
In a seclusion almost hermetical, they knew that a war ex- 
isted between their country and the United States ; but that 
was far away upon the Rio Grande. They had heard, more- 
over, that our fleet lay off Vera Cruz, and the pealing of the 
distant thunder of San Juan had from time to time reached 
their ears ; but they had not dreamed, on seeing us, that the 
city was invested by land. The truth was now clear ; and 
the anguish of the mother and daughters became afflicting, 
when we informed them of what we were unable to conceal 
— that it was the intention of the American commander to 
bombard the city. 


132 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


The scene was to us deeply distressing. 

Dona Joaquina wrung her hands, and called upon the 
Virgin with all the earnestness of entreaty. The sisters clung 
alternately to their mother and Don Cosme, weeping and 
crying aloud, '''' Pob7'e Narcisso I nuestro hermanito — le ase- 
smara7t!” (Poor Narcisso, our little brother! — they will 
murder him I) 

In the midst of this distressing scene the door of the 
drawing-room was thrown suddenly open, and a servant 
rushed in, shouting in an agitated voice, “ El iioi'te ! el 
7iori'el ” 






Tropical American Indians Spearing Fish. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

“the norther.” 

E hurried after Don Cosme towards 
the ante-sala, both myself and my com- 
panions ignorant of this new object 
of dread. 

When we emerged from the stair- 
way, the scene that hailed us was 
one of terrific sublimity. Earth and 
heaven had undergone a sudden and 
convulsive change. The face of nature 
but a moment since gay with summer 
smiles, was now hideously distorted. The sky had changed 
suddenly from its blue and sunny brightness to an aspect 
dark and portentous. 

Along the northwest a vast volume of black vapor rolled 
up over the Sierra Madre, and rested upon the peaks of the 
mountains. From this, ragged masses, parting in fantastic 
forms and groupings, floated off against the concavity of the 
sky, as though the demons of the storm were breaking up 

133 



134 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


from an angry council. Each of these, as it careered across 
the heavens, seemed bent upon some spiteful purpose. 

An isolated fragment hung lowering above the snowy cone 
of Orizava, like a huge vampire suspended over his sleeping 
victim. 

From the great “parent cloud” that rested upon the 
Sierra Madre, lightning-bolts shot out and forked hither and 
thither, or sank into the detached masses— the messengers 
of the storm-king, bearing his fiery mandates across the 
sky. 

Away along the horizon of the east moved the yellow 
pillars of sand, whirled upward by the wind, like vast 
columnar towers leading to heaven. 

The storm had not yet reached the rancho. The leaves 
lay motionless under a dark and ominous calm ; but the 
wild screams of many birds — the shrieks of the swans, the 
discordant notes of the frightened pea-owl, the chattering of 
parrots, as they sought the shelter of the thick olives in 
terrified flight — all betokened the speedy advent of some 
fearful convulsion. 

The rain in large drops fell upon the broad leaves, with a 
soft plashing sound ; and now and then a quick, short puff 
came snorting along, and, seizing the feathery frondage of 
the palms, shook them with a spiteful and ruffian energy. 

The long green stripes, after oscillating a moment, would 
settle down again in graceful and motionless curves. 

A low sound like the “ sough ” of the sea, or the distant 
falling of water, came from the north ; while at intervals the 
hoarse bark of the coyote^ and the yelling of terrified 
monkeys, could be heard afar off in the woods. 

“ Tapa la casal tapa la casa I ” (Cover the house !) cried 
Don Cosme, as soon as he had fairly got his head above 
ground. 

“ Anda! — anda con los macates (Quick with the cords !) 

With lightning quickness a roll of palmetto mats came 


“the norther.” 135 

down on all sides of the house, completely covering the 
bamboo walls, and forming a screen impervious to both wind 
and rain. This was speedily fastened at all corners, and 
strong stays were carried out and warped around the trunks 
of trees. In five minutes the change was complete. The 
cage-looking structure had disappeared, and a house with 
walls of yellow petate stood in its place. 

“ Now, senores, all is secured,” said Don Cosme. “ Let 
us return to the drawing-room.” 

“ I should like to see the first burst of this tornado,” I 
remarked, not wishing to intrude upon the scene of sorrow 
we had left. 

“ So be it, captain. Stand here under the shelter, then.” 

“ Hot as thunder ! ” growled the major, wiping the per- 
spiration from his broad red cheeks. 

“ In five minutes, senor coronel, you will be chilled. At 
this point the heated atmosphere is now compressed. Pa- 
tience ! it will soon be scattered.” 

“ How long will the storm continue ^ ” I asked. 

’‘‘‘For Dios I senor, it is impossible to tell how long the 

norte ” may rage : sometimes for days ; perhaps only for a 
few hours. This appears to be a “ htiracana'^ If so, it will 
be short, but terrible while it lasts. Carrambo I ” 

A puff of cold, sharp wind came whistling past like an 
arrow. Another followed, and another, like the three seas 
that roll over the stormy ocean. Then, with a loud rushing 
sound, the broad full blast went sweeping — strong, dark, and 
dusty — bearing upon its mane the screaming and terrified 
birds, mingled with torn and flouted leaves. 

The olives creaked and tossed about. The tall palms 
bowed and yielded, flinging out their long pinions like 
streamers. The broad leaves of the plantains flapped and 
whistled, and, bending gracefully, allowed the fierce blast to 
pass over. 

Then a great cloud came rolling down; a thick vapor 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


136 

seemed to fill the space ; and the air felt hot, and dark, and 
heavy. A choking, sulphureous smell rendered the breath- 
ing difficult, and for a moment day seemed changed to night. 



Suddenly the whole atmosphere blazed forth in a sheet of 
flame, and the trees glistened as though they were on fire. 
An opaque darkness succeeded. Another flash, and along 


A Hurricane in the Tropica 


“ THE NORTHER.” 137 

with it the crashing thunder — the artillery of heaven — 
deafening all other sounds. 

Peal followed peal ; the vast cloud was breached and burst 
by a hundred fiery bolts ; and like an avalanche the heavy 
tropical rain was precipitated to the earth. 

It fell in torrents, but the strength of the tempest had been 
spent on the first onslaught. The dark cloud passed on to 
the south, and a piercing cold wind swept after it. 

“ Vamos a bajar^ seTiores ” (Let us descend, gentlemen), 
said Don Cosme, with a shiver, and he conducted us back 
to the stairway. 

Clayley and the major looked towards me with an expres- 
sion that said, “ Shall we go in ? ” There were several 
reasons why our return to the drawing-room was unpleasant 
to myself and my companions. A scene of domestic affliction 
is ever painful to a stranger. How much more painful to 
us, knowing, as we did, that our countrymen — that ive — had 
been the partial agents of this calamity ! We hesitated a 
moment on the threshold. 

“ Gentlemen, we must return for a moment : we have been 
the bearers of evil tidings — let us offer such consolation as 
we may think of. Come ! ” 




CHAPTER XVII. 

A LITTLE FAIR WEATHER AGAIN. 

N re-entering the sala the picture of 
woe was again presented, but in an 
altered aspect. A change, sudden 
as the atmospheric one we had just 
witnessed, had taken place ; and the 
scene of wild weeping was now succeeded by one of resigna- 
tion and prayer. 

On one side was Dona Joaquina, holding in her hands a 
golden rosary with its crucifix. The girls were kneeling in 
front of a picture — a portrait of Dolores with the fatal dagger ; 
and the “ Lady of Grief ” looked not more sorrowful from 
the canvas than the beautiful devotees that bent before her. 

138 



A LITTLE FAIR WEATHER. 


139 

With their heads slightly leaning, their arms crossed upon 
their swelling bosoms, and their long loose hair trailing upon 
the carpet, they formed a picture at once painful and pre- 
possessing. 

Not wishing to intrude upon this sacred sorrow, we made 
a motion to retire. 

“ No, senors,” said Don Cosmd, interrupting us ; “ be 
seated ; let us talk calmly — let us know the worst.” 

We then proceeded to inform Don Cosme of the landing 
of the American troops, and the manner in which our lines 
were drawn around the city, and pointed out to him the im- 
possibility of any one passing either in or out. 

“ There is still a hope, Don Cosme,” said I, “ and that, 
perhaps, rests with yourself.” 

The thought had struck me that a Spaniard of Don 
Cosme’s evident rank and wealth might be enabled to pro- 
cure access to the city by means of his consul, and through 
the Spanish ship of war that I recollected was lying off San 
Juan. 

“Oh ! name it, captain ; name it ! ” cried he, while at the 
word “ hope ” the ladies had rushed forward, and stood 
clinging around me. 

“ There is a Spanish ship of war lying under the walls of 
Vera Cruz.” 

“ We know it— we know it ! ” replied Don Cosme eagerly. 

“ Ah ! you know it, then ? ” 

“Oh yes,” said Guadalupe. “ Don Santiago is on board 
of her.” 

“ Don Santiago ? ” inquired I ; “ who is he } ” 

“ He is a relation of ours, captain,” said Don Cosme — 
“ an officer in the Spanish navy.” 

This information pained me, although I scarcely knew why. 

“ You have a friend, then, aboard the Spanish ship,” 
said I to the elder of the sisters. “ Tis well ; it will be in 
his power to restore to you your brother.” ^ 


140 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


A ring of brightening faces was around me while I ut- 
tered these cheering words ; and Don Cosme grasping me by 
the hand, entreated me to proceed. 

“ This Spanish ship,” I continued, “ is still allowed to keep 
up a communication with the town. You should proceed 
aboard at once, and by the assistance of this friend you 
may bring away your son before the bombardment com- 
mences. I see no difficulty ; our batteries are not yet 
formed.” 

“ I will go this instant ! ” said Don Cosme, leaping to his 
feet, while Dona Joaquina and her daughters ran out to make 
preparations for his journey. 

Hope — sweet hope — was again in the ascendant. 

“ But how, senor ? ” asked Don Cosme, as soon as they 
were gone — “ how can I pass your lines ? Shall I be per- 
mitted to reach the ship ? ” 

“ It will be necessary for me to accompany you, Don 
Cosme,” I replied ; “and I regret exceedingly that my duty 
will not permit me to return with you at once.” 

“ Oh, senor ! ” exclaimed the Spaniard, with a painful ex- 
pression. 

“ My business here,” continued I, “ is to procure pack- 
mules for the American army.” 

“ Mules ?” 

“ Yes. We were crossing for that purpose to a plain on 
the other side of the woods, where we had observed some 
animals of that description.” 

“ ’Tis true, captain — there are a hundred or more ; they, 
are mine — take them all ! ” 

“But it is our , intention to pay for them, Don Cosme. 
The major here has the power to contract with you.” 

“ As you please, gentlemen ; but you will then return this 
way, and proceed to your camp } ” 

“ As soon as possible,” I replied, 
this plain ? ” 


“ How far distant is 


A LITTLE FAIR WEATHER. 


141 

“ Not more than a league. I would go with you, but ” 

Here Don Cosme hesitated, and, approaching, said, in a low 
tone : “ The truth is, senor captain, I should be glad if you 
could take them without my consent, I have mixed but little 
in the politics of this country ; but Santa Anna is my enemy 
— he will ask no better motive for despoiling me.” 

“I understand you,” said I. “Then, Don Cosme, we 
will take your mules by force, and carry yourself a prisoner 
to the American camp — a Yankee return for your hospi- 
tality.” 

“ It is good,” replied the Spaniard with a smile. 

“ Senor captain,” continued he, “ you are without a 
sword. Will you favor me by accepting this t ” 

Don Cosme held out to me a rapier of Toledo steel, 
with a golden scabbard richly chased, and bearing on its 
hilt the eagle and nopal of Mexico. 

“ It is a family relic and once belonged to the brave 
Guadalupe Victoria.” 

“ Ha ! indeed ! ” I exclaimed, taking the sword ; “ I shall 
value it much. Thanks, senor ! thanks ! Now, major, we 
are ready to proceed.” 

“A glass of maraschino, gentlemen ?” said Don Cosme, 
as a servant appeared with a flask and glasses. 

“ Thank you — yes,” grunted the major ; “ and while we are 
drinking it, senor don, let me give you a hint. You appear 
to have plenty of pewter'' Here the major significantly 
touched a gold sugar-dish, which the servant was carrying 
upon a tray of chased silver: “Take my word for it you 
can’t bury it too soon.” 

“ It is true, Don Cosme,” said I, translating to him the 
major’s advice. “ We are not French, but there are robbers 
who hang on the skirts of every army.” 

Don Cosme promised to follow the hint with alacrity, and 
we prepared to take our departure from the rancho. 

“ I will give you a guide, senor, captain ; you will find my 


142 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


people with the miilada. Please compel them to lasso the 
cattle for you. You will obtain what you want in the corral. 
Adios senores ! ” 

“ Farewell, Don Cosme ! ” 

“ Adieu, ladies, adieu ! ” 

? “ Adios, capitan I adios ! adios f ” 

I held out my hand to the younger of the girls, who 
instantly caught it and pressed it to her lips. It was the 
action of a child. Guadalupe followed the example of her 
sister, but evidently with a degree of reserve. What, then 
should have caused this difference in their manner.? 

In the next moment we were ascending the stairway. 
“Lucky dog ! growled the major. “Take a ducking 
myself for that.” 

“Both beautiful, by Jove!” said Clayley ; “but of all 
the women I ever saw, give me ‘ Mary of the Light.’ ” 





CHAPTER XVIII. 


THE SCOUT CONTINUED, 
WITH A VARIETY OF 
REFLECTIONS. 


OVE is a rose 
growing up- 
on a thorny 
bramble. 
There is jealousy in the 
very first blush of a pas- 
sion. No sooner has 
a fair face made its im- 
press on the heart than 
hopes and fears spring 
up in alternation. Ev- 
ery action, every word 
every look, is noted and 
examined with a jealous 
scrutiny ; and the heart 
of the lover, changing 
like the chamelon, takes 
its hues from the latest 
sentiment that may 
have dropped from the loved one’s lips. And then the 
various looks, words, and actions, the favorable with the 
unfavorable, are recalled, and by a mental process classified 
and marshaled against each other, and compared and 


Sajou Monkey and Mammy Apple 
of Mexico. 


H3 


144 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


balanced with as much exactitude as the pros and contras 
of a miser’s bank-book ; and in this process we have a new 
alternation of hopes and fears. 

Ah, love! we could write a long history of thy rise and 
progress; but it is doubtful whether any of our readers 
would be a jot the wiser for it. Most of them, ere this, have 
read that history in their own hearts. 

I felt and knew that I was in love. It had come like a 
thought, as it comes upon all men whose souls are attuned 
to vibrate under the mystical impressions of the beautiful. 
And well I knew she was beautiful. I saw its unfailing 
index in those oval developments — the index, too of the 
intellectual ; for experience had taught me that intellect takes 
a shape ; and that those peculiarities of form that we admire, 
without knowing why, are but the material illustrations of 
the diviner principles of mind. 

The eye, too, with its almond outline, and wild, half- 
Indian, half-Arab expression — the dark tracery over the lip, 
so rarely seen in the lineaments of hex sex — even these 
were attractions. There was something picturesque, some- 
thing strange, something almost fierce, in her aspect ; and 
yet it was this indefinable something, this very fierceness, 
that had challenged my love. For I must confess mine is 
not one of those curious natures that I have read of, whose 
love is based only upon the*goodness of the object. That 
is not love. 

My heart recognized in her the heroine of extremes. One 
of those natures gifted with all the tenderness that belongs 
to the angel idea — woman ; yet soaring above her sex in the 
paralyzing moments of peril and despair. Her feelings,/ in 
relation to her sister’s cruelty to the gold-fish, proved the ex- 
istence of the former principles ; her actions, in attempting 
my own rescue when battling with the monster, were evi- 
dence of the latter. One of those natures that may err 
from the desperate intensity of one passion, that knows no 


THE SCOUT CONTINUED. 145 

limit to its self-sacrifice short of destruction and death. 
One of those beings that may fall — but only once. 

“ What would I not give — what would I not do — to be 
the hero of such a heart ? ” 

These were my reflections as I quitted the house. 

I had noted every word, every look, every action, that 
could lend me a hope ; and my memory conjured up, and 
my judgment canvassed, each little circumstance in its turn. 

How strange her conduct at bidding adieu ! How unlike 
her sister! Less friendly and sincere ; and yet from this 
very circumstance I drew my happiest omen. 

Strange — is it not.? My experience has taught me that 
love and hate for Wi^same object can exist in the 
and at the same time. If this be a paradox, I am a child of 
error. 

I believed it then ; and her apparent coldness, which would 
have rendered many another hopeless, produced with me an 
opposite effect. 

Then came the cloud — the thought of Don Santiago — and 
a painful feeling shot through my heart. 

“ Don Santiago, a naval officer, young, handsome. Bah ! 
hers is not a heart to be won by a face.” 

Such were my reflections and half-uttered expressions as 
I slowly led my soldiers through the tangled path. 

Don Santiago’s age and his appearance were the creations 
of a jealous fancy. I had bidden adieu to my new acquaint- 
ances knowing nothing of Don Santiago beyond the fact 
that he was an officer on board the Spanish ship of war, and 
a relation of Don Cosme. 

“ Oh yes I Don Santiago is on board I Ha I there was 
an evident interest. Her look as she said it ; her manner — 
furies ! But he is a relation, a cousin — a cousin — I hate 
cousins I ” 

I must have pronounced the last words aloud, as Lincoln, 
who walked in my rear, stepped hastily up, and asked : 

10 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


146 

“ What did yer say, cap’n ? ” 

“ Oh ! nothing, sergeant,” stammered I, in some confu* 
sion. 

Notwithstanding my assurance, I overheard Lincoln whis- 
per to his nearest comrade : 

“What ther old Harry hes got into the cap ? ” 

He referred to the fact that I had unconsciously hooked 
myself half a dozen times on the thorny claws of the pita- 
plant, and my overalls began to exhibit a most tattered con- 
dition. 

Our route lay through a dense chapparal — now crossing a 
sandy spur, covered with mezquite and acacia ; then sink- 
ing into the bed of some silent creek, shaded with old cork- 
trees, whose gnarled and venerable trunks were laced to- 
gether by a thousand parasites. Two miles from the rancho 
we reached the banks of a considerable stream, which we 
conjectured was a branch of the Jamapa River. 

On both sides a fringe of dark forest-trees flung out long 
branches' extending halfway across the stream. The water 
flowed darkly underneath. 

Huge lilies stood out from the banks — their broad, wax- 
like leaves trailing upon the glassy ripple. 

Here and there were pools fringed with drooping willows 
and belts of green tule. Other aquatic plants rose from the 
water to the height of twenty feet ; among which we distin- 
guished the beautiful “iris,” with its tall, spear-like stem, 
ending in a brown cylinder, like the pompon of a grenadier’s 
cap. 

As we approached the banks the pelican, scared from his 
lonely haunt, rose upon heavy wing, and with a shrill scream 
flapped away through the dark aisles of the forest. The 
cayman plunged sullenly into the sedgy water ; and the 
“ Sajou” monkey, suspended by his prehensile tail from some 
overhanging bough, oscillated to and fro, and filled the air 
with his hideous, half-human cries. 


4 


THE SCOUT CONTINUED. 


147 


Halting for a moment to refill the canteens, we crossed 
over and ascended the opposite bank. A hundred paces 
farther on the guide, who had gone ahead, cried out from an 
eminence, ’"'‘Mira la cabaladal ” (Yonder’s the drove !) 




Vaqueros Lassoing Wild Horses. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


ONE WAY OF TAMING A BULL, 




USHING through the 
jungle, we ascended 
the eminence. A bril- 
liant picture opened 
before us. The storm had sud- 
denly lulled, and the tropical 
sun shone down upon the flowery 
surface of the earth, bathing its 
verdure in a flood of yellow light. 

It was several hours before sunset, but the bright orb had 
commenced descending towards the snowy cone of Orizava, 
and his rays had assumed that golden red which characterizes 
the ante-twilight of the tropics. The short-lived storm had 
swept the heavens, and the blue roof of the world was with- 
out a cloud. The dark masses had rolled away over the 
south-eastern horizon, and were now spending their fury 
upon the dyewood forests of Honduras and Tabasco. 

148 


ONE WAY OF TAMING A BULL. 14O 

At our feet lay the prairie, spread before us like a green 
carpet, and bounded upon the farther side by a dark wall of 
forest-trees. Several clumps of timber grew like islands on 
the plain, adding to the picturesque character of the land- 
scape. 

Near the center of the prairie stood a small rancho, sur- 
rounded by a high picket fence. This we at once recognized 
as the “ corral ” mentioned by Don Cosme'. 

At some distance from the enclosure thousands of cattle 
were browsing upon the grassy level, their spotted flanks and 
long upright horns showing their descent from the famous 
race of Spanish bulls. Some of them, straggling from the 
herd, rambled through the “ mottes,” or lay stretched out 
under the shade of some isolated palm-tree. Ox bells were 
tinkling their cheerful but monotonous music. Hundreds 
of horses and mules mingled with the herd ; and we could 
distinguish a couple of leather-clad vaqueros galloping from 
point to point on their swift mustangs. 

These, as we appeared upon the ridge, dashed out after a 
will bull that had just escaped from the corral. 

All five — the vaqueros, the mustangs, and the bull — swept 
over the prairie like wind, the bull bellowing with rage and 
terror; while the vaqueros were yelling in his rear, and 
whirling their long lazos. Their straight black hair floating 
in the wind — their swarthy, Arab-like faces — their high 
Spanish hats — their red leather calzoneros, buttoned up the 
sides — their huge jingling spurs, and the ornamental trap- 
pings of their deep saddles — all these combined with the 
perfect 7nane%e of their dashing steeds, and the wild excite- 
ment of the chase in which they were engaged, rendered 
them objects of picturesque interest ; and we halted a mo- 
ment to witness the result. 

The bull came rushing past within fifty paces of where we 
stood, snorting with rage, and tossing his horns high in the 
air — his pursuers close upon him. At this moment one of 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


150 

the vaqueros launched his lazo, which, floating gracefully 
out, settled down over one horn. Seeing this, the vaquero 
did not turn his horse, but sat facing the bull, and permitted 
the rope to run out. It was soon carried taut ; and, scarcely 
checking the animal, it slipped along the smooth horn and 
spun out into the air. The cast was a failure. 

The second vaquero now flung his lazo with more success. 
The heavy loop, skilfully projected, shot out like an arrow, 
and embraced both horns in its curving noose. With the 
quickness of thought the vaquero wheeled his horse, buried 
his spurs deep into his flanks, and, pressing his thighs to 
the saddle, galloped off in an opposite direction. The bull 
dashed on as before. In a moment the lariat was stretched. 
The sudden jerk caused the thong to vibrate like a bowstring, 
and the bull lay motionless on the grass. The shock almost 
dragged the mustang upon his flanks. 

The bull lay for some time where he had fallen ; then, 
making an effort, he sprang up, and looked around him with 
a bewildered air. He was not yet conquered. His eye, 
flashing with rage, rolled around until it fell upon the rope 
leading from his horns to the saddle ; and, suddenly 
lowering his head, with a furious roar he rushed upon the 
vaquero. 

The latter, who had been expecting this attack, drove the 
spurs into his mustang, and started in full gallop across the 
prairie. On followed the bull, sometimes shortening the 
distance between him and his enemy, while at intervals the 
lazo, tightening, would almost jerk him upon his head. 

After running for a hundred yards or so, the vaquero sud- 
denly wheeled and galloped out at right angles to his former 
course. Before the bull could turn himself the rope again 
tightened with a jerk and flung him upon his side. This 
time he lay but an instant, and, again springing to his feet, 
he dashed off in fresh pursuit. 

The second vaquero now came up, and, as the bull rushed 


ONE WAY OF TAMING A BULL. 151 

past, launched his lazo after, and snared him around one of 
the legs, drawing the noose upon his ankle. 

This time the bull was flung completely over, and with such 
a violent shock that he lay as if dead. One of the vaqueros 
then rode cautiously up, and, bending over in the saddle, 
unfastened both of the lariats, and set the animal free. 

The bull rose to his feet, and, looking around in the most 
cowed and pitiful manner, walked quietly off, driven un- 
resistingly towards the corral. 

We commenced descending into the plain, and the va- 
queros, catching a glimpse of our uniforms, simultaneously 
reined up their mustangs with a sudden jerk. We could see 
from their gestures that they were frightened at the approach 
of our party. This was not strange, as the major, mounted 
upon his great gaunt charger, loomed up against the blue 
sky like a colossus. The Mexicans, doubtless, had never 
seen anything in the way of horseflesh bigger than the mus- 
tangs they were riding : and this apparition, with the long 
line of uniformed soldiers descending the hill, was calculated 
to alarm them severely. 

“Them fellers is gwine to put, cap’n,” said Lincoln, 
touching his cap respectfully. 

“ You’re right, sergeant,” I replied, “ and without them 
we might as well think of catching the wind as one of these 
mules.” 

“ If yer’ll just let me draw a bead on the near mustang, 
I kin kripple him ’ithout hurtin’ the thing thet’s in the 
saddle.” 

“ It would be a pity. No, sergeant,” answered I. “ I 
might stop them by sending forward the guide,” I continued, 
addressing myself rather than Lincoln ; “but no, it will not 
do; there must be the appearance of force. I have promised. 
Major, would you have the goodness to ride forward, and 
prevent those fellows from galloping off ? ” 

“ Lord, captain ! ” said the major, with a terrified look. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


152 

“ you don’t think I could overtake such Arabs as them ? 
Hercules is slow — slow as a crab.” 

Now, this was a He, and I knew it ! for Hercules, the 
major’s great, raw-boned steed, was as fleet as the wind. 

“Then, major, perhaps you will allow Mr. Clayley to 
make trial of him,” I suggested. “ He is light weight. I 
assure you that, without the assistance of these Mexicans, 
we shall not be able to catch a single mule.” 

The major, seeing that all eyes were fixed upon him, 
suddenly straightened himself up in his stirrups, and, swell- 
ing with courage and importance, declared, “ If that was the 
case, he would go himself.” Then, calling upon “ Doc ” to 
follow him, he struck the spurs into Hercules, and rode for- 
ward at a gallop. 

It proved that this was just the very course to start the 
vaqueros, as the major had inspired them with more terror 
than all the rest of our party. They showed evident symp- 
toms of taking to their heels, and I shouted to them at the 
top of my voice : 

“ Alto ! somos amigos ” (Halt ! we are friends). 

The words were scarcely out of my mouth when the 
Mexicans drove the rowels into their mustangs, and galloped 
off as if for their lives in the direction of the corral. 

The major followed at a slashing pace. Doc bringing up the 
rear ; while the basket which the latter carried over his arm 
began to eject its contents, scattering the commissariat of 
the major over the prairie. Fortunately, the hospitality of 
Don Cosme had already provided a substitute for this 
loss. 

After a run of about half a mile Hercules began to gain 
rapidly upon the mustangs, whereas Doc was losing distance 
in an inverse ratio: The Mexicans had got within a couple 
of hundred of yards of the rancho, the major not over a hun- 
dred in their rear, when I observed the latter suddenly pull 
up, and, jerking the long body of Hercules round, commence 


ONE WAY OF TAMING A BULL. 1 53 

riding briskly back, all the while looking over his shoulders 
towards the inclosure. 

The vaqueros did not halt at the corral, as we expected, 
but kept across the prairie, and disappeared among the trees 
on the opposite side. 

“ What the deuce has got into Blossom ? ” inquired 
Clayley ; “ he was clearly gaining upon them. The old 
bloat must have burst a blood-vessel.” 




Apache Indians Lassoing Wild Horses. 


CHAPTER XX. 


A BRUSH WITH THE GUERILLEROS. 



HY, what was the 
matter, major } ” 
inquired I, as the 
major rode up 
blowing like a porpoise. 
“ Matter ! ” replied he, 
with one of his direst 
imprecations — “ matter, 
indeed ! You wouldn’t 
have me ride plump in- 
to their works, would 
you ? ” 

“ Works ! ” echoed I, 
in some surprise ; “ what do you mean by that, major .? ” 

“I mean works — that’s all. There’s a stockade ten feet 
high, as full as it can stick of them.” 

“ Full of what?” 

“ Full of the enemy — full of rancheros. I saw their ugly 
copper faces — a dozen of them at least — looking at me over 
the pickets ; and, sure as heaven, if I had gone ten paces 
farther they would have riddled me like a target.” 


154 




A BRUSH WITH THE GUERILLEROS. 155 

“ But, major, they were only peaceable rancheros — cow- 
herds — nothing more.” 

“ Cowherds ! I tell you, captain, that those two mahogany- 
colored devils that galloped off had a sword apiece strapped 
to their saddles. I saw them when I got near : they were 
decoys to bring us up to that stockade — I’ll bet my life 
upon it ! ” 

“ Well, major,” rejoined I, “ they’re far enough from the 
stockade now ; and fjie best we can do in their absence will 
be to examine it, and see what chances it may offer to 
corral these mules, for, unless they can be driven into it, we 
shall have to return to camp empty-handed.” 

Saying this, I moved forward with the men, the major 
keeping in the rear. 

We soon reached the formidable stockade, which proved 
to be nothing more than a regular corral, such as are found 
on the great haciendas de ganados (cattle farms) of Spanish 
America. In one corner was a house constructed of upright 
poles, with a thatch of palrn-leaves. This contained the 
lazos, alparejas'^ saddles, etc. of the vaqueros ; and in the 
door of this house stood a decrepit old zambo, the only human 
thing about the place. The zambo’s woolly head over the 
pickets had reflected itself a dozen times on the major’s 
terrified imagination. 

After examining the corral, I found it excellent for our 
purpose, provided we could only succeed in driving the 
mules into it; and throwing open the bars, we proceeded to 
make the attempt. The mules were browsing quietly at the 
distance of a quarter of a mile from the corral. 

Marching past the drove, I deployed the company in the 
form of a semicircle, forming a complete cordon round the 
Animals ; then, closing in upon them slowly, the soldiers 
commenced driving them towards the pen. 

We were somewhat awkward at this new duty ; but by 
means of a shower of small rocks, pieces of hois de vache, 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


156 

and an occasional “heigh, heigh ! ” the mules were soon in 
motion and in the required direction. 

The major, with Doc and little Jack, being the mounted 
men of the party, did great service, especially Jack, who was 
highly delighted with this kind of thing, and kept Twidget 
in a constant gallop from right to left. 

As the mulada neared the gates of the enclosure, the two 
extremes of the semi-circumference gradually approached 
each other, closing in toward the corral. 

The mules were already within fifty paces of the entrance 
the soldiers coming up about two hundred yards in the rear, 
when a noise like the tramping of many hoofs arrested our 
attention. The quick sharp note of a cavalry bugle rang 
out across the plain, followed by a wild yell, as though a 
band of Indian warriors were swooping down upon the foe. 

In an instant every eye were turned, and we beheld with 
consternation a cloud of horsemen springing out from the 
woods, and dashing along in the headlong velocity of a charge. 

It required but a single glance to satisfy me that they 
were guerilleros. Their picturesque attire, their peculiar 
arms, and the parti-colored bannerets upon their lances were 
not to be mistaken. 

We stood for a moment as if thunder-struck ; a sharp cry 
rose along the deployed line. 

I signaled to the bugler, who gave the command, “ Rally 
upon the center ! ” 

As if by one impulse, the whole line closed in with a run 
upon the gates of the enclosure. The mules, impelled by 
the sudden rush, dashed forward pell-mell, blocking up the 
entrance. 

On came the guerilleros, with streaming pennons an(J 
lances couched, shouting their wild cries : 

“ Andela ! andela f Mueran los Yankees I ’’ (Forward ! 
forward ! Death to the Yankees !) 

The foremost of the soldiers were already upon the heels 


A BRUSH WITH THE GUERILLEROS. 157 

of the crowded mules, pricking them with bayonets. The 
animals began to kick and plunge in the most furious manner 
causing a new danger in front. 

“ Face about — fire ! ” I commanded at this moment. 

An irregular but well-directed volley emptied half a dozen 
saddles, and for a moment staggered the charging line ; but, 
before my men could reload, the guerilleros had leaped clear 
over their fallen comrades, and were swooping down with 
cries of vengeance. A dozen of their bravest men were 
already within shot range, firing their escopettes and pistols 
as they came down. 

Our position had now grown fearfully critical. The mules 
still blocked up the entrance, preventing the soldiers from 
taking shelter behind the stockade ; and before we could re- 
load, the rearmost would be at the mercy of the enemy’s lances. 

Seizing the major’s servant by the arm, I dragged him from 
his horse, and, leaping into the saddle, flung myself upon the 
rear. Half a dozen of my bravest men, among whom were 
Lincoln, Chane, and the Frenchman Raoul, rallied around 
the horse, determined to receive the cavalry charge on the 
short bayonets of their rifles. Their pieces were all empty ! 

At this moment my eye rested on one of the soldiers, a 
brave but slow-footed German, who was still twenty paces in 
the rear of his comrades, making every effort to come up. 
Two of the guerilleros were rushing upon him with couched 
lances. I galloped out to his rescue ; but before I could 
reach him the lance of the foremost Mexican crashed 
through the soldier’s skull, shivering it like a shell. The 
barb and bloody pennon came out on the opposite side. 
The man was lifted from the ground, and carried several 
paces upon the shaft of the lance. 

The guerillero dropped his entangled weapon ; but be- 
fore he could draw any other, the sword of Victoria was 
through his heart. 

His comrade turned upon me with a cry of vengeance. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


158 

I had not yet disengaged my weapon to ward off the thrust. 
The lance’s point was within three feet of my breast, when 
a sharp crack was heard from behind ; the lancer threw out 
his arms with a spasmodic jerk ; his long spear was whirled 
into the air, and he fell back in his saddle, dead. 

“Well done. Jack! fire and scissors! who showed yer 
that trick ? whooray ! whoop ! ’’ and I heard the voice of 
Lincoln, in a sort of Indian yell, rising high above the din. 

At this moment a guerillo, mounted upon a powerful black 
mustang, came galloping down. This man, unlike most of 
his comrades, was armed with the saber, which he evidently 
wielded with great dexterity. He came dashing on, his 
white teeth set in a fierce smile. 

“ Ha ! Monsieur le Capitaine,” shouted he, as he came 
near, “ still alive ? I thought I had finished you on Lobos ; 
not too late yet.” 

I recognized the deserter, Dubrosc ! 

“Villain ! ” I ejaculated, too full of rage to utter another 
word. 

We met at fu 1 speed, but with my unmanageable horse I 
could only ward off his blow as he swept past me. We 
wheeled again, and galloped towards each other — both of us 
impelled by hatred ; but my horse again shied, frightened 
by the gleaming saber of my antagonist. Before I could 
rein him round, he had brought me close to the pickets of 
the corral ; and on turning to meet the deserter, 1 found 
that we were separated by a band of dark objects. 

It was a detachment of mules, that had backed from the 
gates of the corral and were escaping to the open plain. 
We reined up, eyeing each other with impatient vengeance ; 
but the bullets of my men began to whistle from the 
pickets ; and Dubrosc, with a threatening gesture, wheeled 
his horse and galloped off to his comrades. They had re- 
tired beyond range, and were halted in groups upon the 
prairie, chafing with disappointment and rage. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

A HERCULEAN FEAT. 

HE whole skirmish 
did not occupy two 
minutes. It was like 
most charges of Mex- 
ican cavalry — a dash, a wild 
yelling, half a dozen empty 
saddles, and a hasty retreat. 

The guerilleros had swerved 
off as soon as they perceived 
that we had gained a safe po- 
sition, and the bullets of our 
reloaded pieces began to whis- 
tle around their ears. Du- 
brosc alone, in his impetuosity, galloped close up to the en- 
closure; and it was only on perceiving himself alone, and 
the folly of exposing himself thus fruitless!}^, that he 
wheeled round and followed the Mexicans. The latter were 
now out upon the prairie, beyond the range of small-arms, 
grouped around their wounded comrades, or galloping to 
and fro, with yells of disappointed vengeance. 



^59 


l6o THE RIFLE RANGERS.* 

# 

I entered the corral, where most of my men had sheltered 
themselves behind the stockades. Little Jack sat upon 
Twidget, reloading his rifle, and trying to appear insensible 
to the flattering encomiums that hailed him from all sides. 
A compliment from Lincoln, however, was too much for 
Jack, and a proud smile was seen upon the face of the boy. 

“ Thank you. Jack,” said I, as I passed him ; “I see you 
can use a rifle to some purpose.” 

Jack held down his head, without saying a word, and ap- 
peared to be very busy about the lock of his piece. 

In the skirmish, Lincoln had received the scratch of a 
lance, at which he was chafing in his own peculiar way, and 
vowing revenge upon the giver. It might be said that he 
had taken this, as he had driven his short bayonet through 
his antagonist’s arm, and sent him off with this member 
hanging by his side. 

But the hunter was not content ; and, as he retired sul- 
lenly into the enclosure, he turned round, and, shaking his 
fist at the Mexican, muttered savagely : 

“ Yer darned skunk ! I’ll know yer agin. See if I don’t 
git yer yit ! ” 

Gravenitz, a Prussian soldier, had also been too near a 
lance, and several others had received slight wounds. The 
German was the only one killed. He was still lying out on 
the plain, where he had fallen, the long shaft of the lance 
standing up out of his skull. Not ten feet distant lay the 
corpse of his slayer, glistening in its gaudy and picturesque 
attire. 

The other guerillero, as he fell, had noosed one of his 
legs in the lazo that hung from the horn of his saddle, and 
was now dragged over the prairie after his wild and snort- 
ing mustang. As the animal swerved, at every jerk his 
limber body bounded to the distance of twenty feet, where 
it would lie motionless until slung into the air by a fresh 
pluck on the lazo, 


A HERCULEAN FEAT. 


l6l 


As we were watching this horrid spectacle, several of the 
guerilleros galloped after, while half a dozen others were 
observed spurring their steeds towards the rear of the corral. 
On looking in this direction we perceived a huge red horse, 
with an empty saddle, scouring at full speed across the prairie. 
A single glance showed us that this horse was Hercules. 

“ Good heavens ! the major ! ” 

“Safe somewhere,” replied Clayley ; “but where the 
deuce can he be ? He is not hors de combat on the plain, or 
one could see him even ten miles off. Ha ! ha ! ha ! — look 
yonder ! ” 

Clayley, yelling with laughter, pointed to the corner of 
the rancho. 

Though after a scene so tragic, I could hardly refrain 
from joining Clayley in his boisterous mirth. Hanging by 
the belt of his saber upon a high picket was the major, kick- 
ing and struggling with all his might. The waist-strap, 
tightly drawn by the bulky weight of the wearer, separated 
his body into two vast rotundities, while his face was dis- 
torted and purple with the agony of suspense and suspen- 
sion. He was loudly bellowing for help, and several sol- 
diers were running towards him ; but, from the manner in 
which he jerked his body up, and screwed his neck, so as 
to enable him to look over the stockade, it was evident that 
the principal cause of his uneasiness lay on the “ other side 
of the fence.” 

The truth was, the major, on the first appearance of the 
enemy, had galloped towards the rear of the corral, and, 
finding no entrance, had thrown himself from the back of 
Hercules upon the stockade, intending to climb over; but, 
having caught a glance of some guerilleros, he had sud- 
denly let go his bridle, and attempted to precipitate himself 
into the corral. 

His waist-belt, catching upon a sharp picket, held him 
suspended midway, still under the impression that the Mex- 

II 


i 62 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


icans were close upon his rear. He was soon unhooked, 
and now waddled across the corral, uttering a thick and con- 
tinuous volley of his choicest oaths. 

Our eyes were now directed towards Hercules. The 
horsemen had closed upon him witHm fifty yards, and were 
winding their lon^ lazos in the air. - The maj^ftipto all ap- 
pearance, had lost his horse. 

After galloping to the edge of the woods, Hercules sud- 
denly halted, and threw up the trailing bridle with a loud 
neigh. His pursuers, coming up, flung out th^ir lazos. 
Two of th^se, s^ling^over his he?id noosed him around the 
neck. The huge brute, as if aware of The necessity of a 
desperate effort to free himself, dropped .his nose to the 
ground, and stretched himself out in full gallop 

The lariats, one by one tightening over his bony chest, 
snapped like threads, almost jerking the mustangs from their 
feet. The long fragments sailed out like streamers as he 
careered across the prairie, far ahead of his yelling pursuers. 

He now made directly for the corral. Several of the 
soldiers ran towards the stockade, in order to seize the bri- 
dle when he should come up ; but Hercules, spying his old 
comrade — the horse of the “ doctor, ” — within the enclosure, 
first neighed loudly, and then, throwing all his nerve into the 
effort, sprang high over the picket fence. 

A cheer rose from the men, who had watched with interest 
his efforts to escape, and who now welcomed him as if he had 
been one of themselves. 

“Two months’ pay for your horse, major ! ” cried Clayley. 

“ Och, the bewtiful baste ! He’s worth the full of his skin 
in goold. By my sowl ! the capten ought to have ’im.” ejac- 
ulated Chane ; and various other encomiums were uttered 
in honor of Hercules. 

Meanwhile, his pursuers, not daring to approach the stock- 
ade, drew off towards their comrades, with gestures of dis- 
appointment and chagrin. 




A Bridge in -Spanish America. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 

BEGAN to reflect upon the real* 
danger of our situation — corralled 
upon a naked prairie, ten miles from 
camp, with no prospect of escape. 
I knew that we could defend our- 
selves against twice the number 
of our cowardly adversaries ; they would never dare 
to come within range of our rifles. But how to get out ? 
how to cross the open plain .? Fifty infantry against four 
times that number of mounted men — lancers at that — and 
not a bush to shelter the foot soldier from the long spear 
and the iron hoof ! 

The nearest motte was half a mile off, and that another half 
a mile from the edge of the woods. Even could the motte be 
reached by a desperate run, it would be impossible to gain 
the woods, as the enemy would certainly cordon our new 

163 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


164 

position, and thus completely cut us off. At present they 
had halted in a body about four hundred yards from the cor- 
ral ; and, feeling secure of having us in a trap, most of them 
had dismounted, and were running out their mustangs upon 
their lazos. It was plainly their determination to take us 
by siege. 

To add to our desperate circumstances, we discovered that 
there was not a drop of water in the corral. The thirst that 
follows a fight had exhausted the scanty supply of our can- 
teens, and the heat was excessive. 

As I was running over in my mind the perils, of our posi- 
tion, my eye rested upon Lincoln, who stood with his piece 
at a carry, his left hand crossed over his breast, in the at- 
titude of a soldier waiting to receive orders. 

“ Well, sergeant, what is it ? ” I inquired. 

“ Will yer allow me, cap’n, ter take a couple o’ files, and 
fetch in the Dutchman ? The men ’ud like ter put a sod 
upon him afore them thievin’ robbers kin git at him.” 

“ Certainly. But will you be safe ? He’s at some dis- 
tance from the stockade.” 

“I don’t think them fellers ’ll kum down — they’ve had 
enuf o’ it just now. We’ll run out quick, and the boys kin 
kiver us with their fire.” 

“Very well, then ; set about it.” 

Lincoln returned to the company, and selected four of the 
most active of his men, with whom he proceeded towards the 
entrance. I ordered the soldiers to throw themselves on 
that side of the enclosure, and cover the party in case of an 
attack ; but none was made. A movement was visible 
among the Mexicans, as they perceived Lincoln and his 
party rush out towards the body ; but, seeing they would be 
too late to prevent them from carrying it off, th^y wisely 
kept beyond the reach of the American rifles. 

The body of the German was brought into the enclosure 
and buried with due ceremony, although his comrades be- 


RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 


165 

lieved that before many hours it would be torn from its “ war- 
rior grave,” dragged forth to feed the coyote' and vulture, and 
his bones left to whiten upon the naked prairie. Which of 
us knew that it might not in a few hours be his own fate 

“ Gentlemen, ” said I to my brother officers, as we came 
together, “ can you suggest any mode of escape ? ” 

“ Our only chance is to fight them where we stand. There 
are four to one, ” replied Clayley. 

“ We have no other chance, captain,” said Oakes, with a 
shake of the head. 

“ But it is not their intention to fight us. Their design is 
to starve us. See ! they are picketing their horses, knowing 
they can easily overtake us if we attempt to leave the en- 
closure.” 

“ Cannot we move in a hollow square ? ” 

“ But what is a hollow square of fifty men ? and against 
four times that number of cavalry, with lances andlazos.^ 
No, no ; they would shiver it with a single charge. Our 
only hope is, that we may be able to hold out until our ab- 
sence from camp may bring a detachment to our relief. 

“ And why not send for it ? ” inquired the major, who had 
scarcely been asked for his advice, but whose wits had been 
sharpened by the extremity of his danger. “ Why not send 
for a couple of regiments } ” 

“ How are we to senjd, major ? ” asked Clayley, looking on 
the major’s proposition as ludicrous under the circumstances. 

“ Have you a pigeon in your pocket ? ” 

“ Why } — how ? There’s Hercules runs like a hare ; stick 
one of your fellows in the saddle, and I’ll warrant him to 
camp in an hour.” 

“ You are right, major,” said I, catching at the major’s 
proposal ; “ thank you for the thought. If he could only 
pass that point in the woods ! I hate it, but it is our only 
chance. ” 

The last sentence I muttered to myself. 


t66 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Why do you hate it, captain ? ” inquired the major, who 
had overheard me. 

“You might not understand my reasons, major.” 

I was thinking upon the disgrace of being trapped as I 
was, and on my first scout, too. 

“ Who will volunteer to ride an express to camp ? ” I in- 
quired, addressing the men. 

Twenty of them leaped out simultaneously. 

“ Which of you remembers the course, that you could fol- 
low it in a gallop ? ” 1 asked. 

The Frenchman, Raoul, stood forth, touching his cap. 

“ I know a shorter one, captain, by Mata Cordera.” 

“ Ha ! Raoul, you know the country } You are the 
man.” 

I now remembered that this man joined us at Sacrificios, 
just after the landing of the expedition. He had been living ^ 
in the country previous to our arrival, and was well ac- 
quainted with it. 

“ Are you a good horseman ? ” I inquired. 

“ I have seen five years of cavalry service.” 

“True. Do you think you can pass them? They are 
nearly in your track.” 

“ As we entered the prairie, captain ; but my route will lie 
past this motte to the left.” 

“ That will give you several points. Do not stop a mo- 
ment after you have mounted, or they will take the hint and 
intercept you.” 

“ With the red horse there will be no danger, captain.” 

“ Leave your gun ; take these pistols. Ha! you have a 
pair in the holsters. See if they are loaded. These spurs — 
so — cut loose that heavy piece from the saddle ; the cloak, 
too ; you must have nothing to encumber you. When you 
come near the camp, leave your "horse in the chapparal. 
Give this to Colonel C .” 

I wrote the following words on a scrap of paper : 


RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 


167 


“ Dear Colonel, 

“'Fwo hundred will be enough. Could they be sto- 
len out after night? If so, all will be well— if it gets 
abroad .... 

“ Yours, 

“H. H.” 

As I handed the paper to Raoul, I whispered in his 
ear — 

“ To Colonel C ’s own hand. Privately, Raoul — pri- 

vately, do you hear ? 

Colonel C was my friend, and I knewt hat he would 

send a private party to my rescue. 

“ I understand, captain,” was the answer of Raoul. 

“ Ready, then ! now mount and be off.” 

The Frenchman sprang nimbly to the saddle, and, driving 
his spurs into the flanks of his horse, shot out from the pen 
like a bolt of lightning. 

For the first three hundred yards or so he galloped directly 
towards the guerilleros. These stood leaning upon their 
saddles, or lay stretched along the greensward. Seeing a 
single horseman riding towards them, few of them moved, 
believing him to be some messenger sent to treat for our 
surrender. 

Suddenly the Frenchman swerved from his direct course, 
and went sweeping around them in the curve of an ellipse. 

They now perceived the ruse, and with a yell leaped into 
their saddles. Some fired their escopettes ; others, unwind- 
ing their lazos, started in pursuit. 

Raoul had by this time set Hercules’s head for the clump 
of timber which he had taken as his guide, and now kept on 
in a track almost rectilinear. Could he but reach the motte 
or clump in safety, he knew that there were straggling trees 
beyond, and these would secure him in some measure from 
the lazos of his pursuers. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


l68 

We stood watching his progress with breathless silence. 
Our lives depended on his escape. A crowd of the gueril- 
leros was between him and us ; but we could still see the 
green jacket of the soldier, and the great red flanks of Her- 
cules, as he bounded on towards the edge of the woods. 
Then we saw the lazos launched out, and spinning around 
Raoul’s head ; and straggling shots were fired ; and we 
fancied at one time that our comrade sprang up in the saddle, 
as if he had been hit. Then he appeared again, all safe, 
rounding the little islet of timber, and the next moment he 
was gone from our sight. Ther^ followed a while of sus- 
pense — of terrible suspense — for the motte hid from view 
both pursuers and pursued. Every eye was straining to- 
wards the point where the horseman had disappeared, when 
Lincoln, who had climbed to the top of the rancho, cried 
out : 

“ He’s safe, cap’n ! The dod-rotted skunks air kummin’ 
’ithout him.” 

It was true. A minute after, the horsemen appeared 
round the motte, riding slowly back, with that air and atti- 
tude that betoken disappointment. 




CHAPTER XXIII. 


A SHORT FIGHT AT “ LONG SHOT.” 



HE escape of 
Raoul and Her- 
cules produced 
an effect almost 
magical upon the enemy. 
Instead of the listless de- 
fensive attitude lately as- 
sumed, the guerilleros were 
now in motion like a nest 
of roused hornets, scouring 
over the plain and yelling 
like a war-party of Indians. 

They did not surround the corral, as I had anticipated 
they would. They had no fear that we should attempt to 
escape ; but they knew that, instead of the three days in 
which they expected to kill us with thirst at their leisure, 
they had not three hours left to accomplish that object. 
Raoul would reach the camp in little more than an hour’s 
time, and either infantry or mounted men would be on them 
in two hours aftcr^ 


169 


% 


I/O 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


Scouts were seen galloping off in the direction taken by 
Raoul, and others dashed into the woods on the opposite 
side of the prairie. All was hurry and scurry. 

Along with Clayley I had climbed upon the roof of the 
rancho, to watch the motions of the enemy, and to find out, 
if possible, his intentions. We stood for some time with- 
out speaking, both of us gazing at the maneuvers of the 
giierilleros. They were galloping to and fro over the prairie, 
excited by the escape of Raoul. 

“ Splendidly done ! ” exclaimed my companion, struck 
with their graceful horsemanship. “One of those fellows, , 
captain, as he sits, at this minute, would-- ” 

“Ha! what ” shouted he, suddenly turning and 

pointing towards the woods. 

[ looked in the direction indicated. A cloud of dust was 
visible at the dehoiichement of the Medellin road. It ap- 
peared to hang over a small body of troops upon the march. 
The sun was just setting; and, as the cloud lay towards the 
west, I could distinguish the sparkling of bright objects 
through its dun volume. The guerilleros had reined up 
their horses, and were eagerly gazing towards the same point. 

Presently the dust was wafted aside — a dozen dark forms 
became visible — and in the midst a bright object flashed 
under the sun like a sheet of gold. At the same instant an 
insulting shout broke from the guerilleros and a voice was 
heaj’d exclaiming : 

“ Cenohio ! Cenohio I Los canones I ” (Cenobio ! Cenobio ! 
the cannon !) 

Clayley turned towards me with an inquiring look. 

“ It is true, Clayley ; by Heavens, we’ll have it now ! ” 

“ What did they say .? ” 

“ Look for yourself — well ? ” 

“ A brass piece, as 1 live !— a six-pound carronade 1 ” 

“ We are fighting the guerilla of Cenobio, a small army of 
itself. Neither stockade nor motte will avail us now/' 


A SHORT FIGHT AT “ LONG SHOT.’’ 171 

“What is to be done ? ” asked my companion. 

“ Nothing but die with arms in our hands. We will not 
die without a struggle, and the sooner we prepare for it the 
better. ” 

“ I leaped from the roof, and ordered the bugler to sound 
the assembly. 

In a moment the clear notes rang out, and the soldiers 
formed before me in the corral. 

“ My brave comrades ! ” cried I, “ they have got the ad- 
vantage of us at last. They are bringing down a piece of 
artillery, and I fear these pickets will offer us but poor 
shelter. If we are driven out, let us strike for that island of 
timber; and, mark me — if we are broken, let every man fight 
his way as he best can, or die over a fallen enemy.” 

A determined cheer followed this short harangue, and I 
continued : 

“ But let us first see how they use their piece. It is a 
small one, and will not destroy us all at once. Fling your- 
selves down as they fire. By lying flat on your faces you 
may not suffer so badly. Perhaps we can hold the corral 
until our friends reach us. At all events we shall try.” 

Another cheer rang along the line. 

“Great heaven, captain! it’s terrible!” whispered the 
major. 

“ What is terrible ” I asked, feeling at the moment a 
contempt for this blaspheming coward. 

“Oh ! this — this business — such a fix to be ” 

“ Major ! remember you are a soldier.” 

“Yes; and I wish I had resigned, as I intended to do, 
before this cursed war commenced.” 

“ Never fear,” said I, tempted to smile at the candor of 
his cowardice ; “ you’ll drink wine at Hewlett’s in a month. 
Get behind this log — it’s the only point shot-proof in the 
whole stockade.” 

“ Do you think, captain, it will stop a shot ? ” 


172 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


Ay — from a siege gun. Look out, men, and be ready to 
obey orders ! ” 

The six-pounder had now approached within five hundred 
yards of the stockade, and was leisurely being unlimbered 
in the midst of a group of the enemy’s artillerists. 

At this moment the voice of the major arrested my atten- 
tion. 

“ Great heaven, captain ! Why do you allow them to 
come so near ? ” 

“ How am I to prevent them ? ” I asked, with some surprise. 

“ Why, my rifle will reach farther than that. It might 
keep them off, I think.” 

“ Major, you are dreaming ! ” said I. “ They are two 
hundred yards beyond range of our rifles. If they would 
only come within that, we should soon send them back for 
you. ” 

“ But, captain, mine will carry twice the distance.” 

I looked at the major, under the belief that he had taken 
leave of his senses. 

“ It’s a zundnadel^ I assure you, and will kill at eight hun- 
dred yards.” 

“ Is it possible ? ” cried I, starting ; for I now recollected 
the curious-looking piece which I had ordered to be cut 
loose from the saddle of Hercules. “ Why did you not tell 
me that before ? Where is Major Blossom’s rifle ? ” I 
shouted, looking around. 

“ This hyur’s the major’s^z^;^,” answered Sergeant Lincoln. 
“ But if it’s a rifle, I never seed sich. It looks more like a 
two-year old cannon.” 

It was, as the major had declared, a Prussian needle-gun 
■ — then a new invention, but of which I had heard some- 
thing. 

“ Is it loaded, major .> ” I asked, taking the piece from 
Lincoln. 

“It is.” 


A SHORT FIGHT AT “ LONG SHOT.’^ l73 

“ Can you hit that man with the sponge ? ” said I, return- 
ing the piece to the hunter. 

“ If this hyur thing ’ll carry fur enuf, I kin,” was the 
reply. 

“ It will kill at a thousand yards, point blank,” cried the 
major, with energy. 

“ Ha ! are you sure of that, major ? ” I asked. 

“ Certainly, captain. I got it from the inventor. We 
tried it at Washington. It is loaded with a conical bullet. 
It bored a hole through an inch plank at that distance.” 

“ Well. Now, sergeant, take sure aim ; this may save us 
yet.” 

Lincoln planted himself firmly on his feet, choosing a notch 
of the stockade that ranged exactly with his shoulder. He 
then carefully wiped the dust from the sights ; and, placing 
the heavy barrel in the notch, laid his cheek slowly against 
the stock. 

“ Sergeant, the man with the shot ! ” I called out. 

As I spoke, one of the artillerists was stooping to the 
muzzle of the six-pounder, holding in his hand a spherical 
case-shot. Lincoln pressed the trigger. The crack followed, 
and the artillerist threw out his arms, and doubled over on 
his head without giving a kick. 

The shot that he had held rolled out upon the greensward. 
A wild cry, expressive of extreme astonishment, broke from 
the guerilleros. At the same instant a cheer rang through 
the corral. 

“ Well done ! ” cried a dozen of voices at once. 

In a moment the rifle was wuped and reloaded. 

“ This time, sergeant, the fellow with the linstock.” 

During the reloading of the rifle, the Mexicans around the 
six-pounder had somewhat recovered from their surprise, and 
had rammed home the cartridge. A tall artillerist stood, 
with linstock and fuse, near the breech, waiting for the order 
to fire. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


174 

Before he received that order the rifle again cracked ; his 
arm flew up with a sudden jerk, and the smoking rod, flying 
from his grasp, was projected to the distance of twenty feet. 

The man himself spun round, and, staggering a pace or 
two, fell into the arms of his comrades. 

“ Cap’n, jest allow me ter take that ere skunk next time.” 

“ Which one, sergeant } ” I asked. 

“ Him thet’s on the black, makin’ such a dot-rotted muss.” 

I recognized the horse and figure of Dubrosc. 

“ Certainly, by all means,” said I, with a strange feeling 
at my heart as I gave the order. 

But before Lincoln could reload, one of the Mexicans, ap- 
parently an officer, had snatched up the burning fuse, and, 
running up, applied it to the touch. 

“ On your faces, men ! ” 

The ball came crashing through the thin pickets of the 
corral, and, whizzing across the enclosure, struck one of the 
mules on the flank, tearing open its hip, causing it to kick 
furiously as it tumbled over the ground. 

Its companions, stampeding, galloped for a moment through 
the pen ; then, collecting in a corner, stood cowered up and 
quivering. A fierce yell announced the exultation of the 
guerilleros. 

Dubrosc was sitting on his powerful mustang, facing the 
corral, and watching the effects of the shot. 

“ If he wur only ’ithin range ov my own rifle ! ” muttered 
Lincoln, as he glanced along the sights of the strange piece. 

The crack soon followed — the black horse reared, stag- 
gered, and fell back on his rider. 

“ Ten strike, set ’em up ! ” exclaimed a soldier. 

“ Missed the skunk — confound him ! ” cried Lincoln, 
gritting his teeth as the horseman was seen to struggle from 
under the fallen animal. 

Rising to his feet, Dubrosc sprang out to the front, and 
shook his fist in the air with a shout of defiance. 


A SHORT FIGHT AT “ LONG SHOT.” 175 

The guerilleros galloped back ; and the artillerists wheel- 
ing the six-pounder, dragged it after, and took up a new 
position about three hundred yards farther to the rear. 

A second shot from the piece again tore through the pickets, 
striking one of our men, and killing him instantly. 

“ Aim at the artillerists, sergeant. We have nothing to 
fear from the others.” 

Lincoln fired again. The shot hit the ground in front of 
the enemy’s gun ; but, glancing, it struck one of the cannon- 
iers, apparently wounding him badly, as he was carried back 
by his comrades. 

The Mexicans, terror-struck at this strange instrument of 
destruction, took up a new position, two hundred yards still 
farther back. 

Their third shot ricocheted, striking the top of the strong 
plank behind which the major was screening himself, and 
only frightening the latter by the shock upon the timber. 

Lincoln again fired. 

This time his shot produced no visible effect, and a taunt- 
ing cheer from the enemy told that they felt themselves be- 
yond range. 

Another shot was fired from ziindnabel^ apparently with a 
similar result. 

“ It’s beyond her carry, cap’n,” said Lincoln, bringing the 
butt of his piece to the ground, with an expression of reluc- 
tant conviction. 

“ Try one more shot. If it fail, we can reserve the other 
for closer work. Aim high ! ” 

This resulted as the two preceding ones ; and a voice 
from the guerilleros was heard exclaiming : 

“ Yankees bobos I mas adelante ! ” (A little farther, you 
Yankee fools !) 

Another shot from the six-pounder cracked through the 
planks, knocking his piece from the hands of a soldier, and 
shivering the dry stock-wood into fifty fragments. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


176 

“ Sergeant, give me the rifle,” said I. “ They must be a 
thousand yards off ; but, as they are as troublesome with 
that carronade as if they were only ten, I shall try one more 
shot.” 

I fired, but the ball sank at least fifty paces in front of the 
enemy. 

“ We expect too much. It is not a twenty-four pounder. 
Major, I envy you two things — your rifle and your horse.” 

“ Hercules ? ” 

“ Of course.” 

“ Lord, captain ! you may do what you will with the rifle ; 
and if ever we get out of the reach of these infernal devils, 
Hercules shall be ” 

At this moment a cheer came from the guerilleros, and a 
voice was heard shouting above the din : 

“ La metralla •' la metralla I ” (The howitzer !) 

I leaped upon the roof, and looked out upon the plain. It 
was true. A howitzer-carriage, drawn by mules, was de- 
bouching from the woods, the animals dragging it along at 
a gallop. 

It was evidently a piece of some size, large enough to tear 
the light picketing that screened us to atoms. 

I turned towards my men with a look of despair. My eye 
at this moment rested on the drove of mules that stood 
crowded together in a corner of the pen. A sudden thought 
struck me. Might we not mount them and escape ? There 
were more than enough to carry us all, and the rancho was 
filled with bridles and ropes. I instantly leaped from the 
roof, and gave orders to the men. 

“ Speedily, but without noise ! ” cried I, as the soldiers 
proceeded to fling bridles upon the necks of the animals. 

In five minutes each man, with his rifle slung, stood by a 
mule, some of them having buckled on tapadas, to prevent 
the animals from kicking. 

The major stood ready by his horse. 


A SHORT FIGHT AT “ LONG SHOT.” 1 77 

“ Now, my brave fellows,” shouted I in a loud voice, “ we 
must take it cavalry fashion — Mexican cavalry, I mean.’^ 
The men laughed. “ Once in the woods, we shall retreat 
no farther. At the words Mount and follow^^' spring to 
your seats and follow Mr. Clayley. I shall look to your rear 
— don’t stop to fire — hold on well. If any one fall, let his 
nearest comrade take him up. Ha ! anyone hurt there ? ” 
A shot had whistled through the ranks. “ Only a scratch,” 
was the reply. 

“ All ready, then, are you ? Now, Mr. Clayley, you see 
the high timber — make direct fo r that. Down with the bars ! 
‘ Mount and follow I ’ ” 

As I uttered the last words, the men leaped to their seats ; 
and Clayley, riding the bell-mule, dashed out of the corral, 
followed by the whole train, some of them plunging and 
kicking, but all galloped forward at the sound of the bell 
upon their guide. 

As the dark cavalcade rushed out upon the prairie, a wild 
cry from the guerilleros told that this was the first intimation 
they had had of the singular ruse. They sprang to their 
saddles with yells, and galloped in pursuit. The howitzer, 
that had been trailed upon the corral, was suddenly wheeled 
about and fired ; but the shot, ill-directed in their haste, 
whistled harmlessly over our heads. 

The guerilleros, on their swift steeds, soon lessened the 
distance between us. 

With a dozen of the best men I hung in the rear, to give 
the foremost of the pursuers a volley, or pick up any soldier 
who might be tossed from his mule. One of these, at in- 
tervals, kicked as only a Mexican mule can ; and when 
within five hundred yards of the timber, his rider, an Irishman, 
was flung upon the prairie. 

The rearmost of our party stopped to take him up. He 
was seized by Chane, who mounted him in front of himself. 
The delay had nearly been fatal. The pursuers were already 

12 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


178 

within a hundred yards, firing their pistols and escopettes 
without effect. A number of the men turned in their seats 
and blazed back. Others threw their rifles over their shoul- 
ders, and pulled trigger at random. I could perceive that 
two or three gueriileros dropped from their saddles. Their 
comrades, with shouts of vengeance, closed upon us nearer 
and nearer. The long lazos, far in advance, whistled around 
our heads. 

I felt the slippery noose light upon my shoulders. I 
flung out my arms to throw it off, but with a sudden jerk it 
tightened around my neck. I clutched the hard thong, 
and pulled with all my might. It was in vain. 

The animal I rode, freed from my manege^ seemed to plunge 
under me, and gather up its back with a vicious determina- 
tion to fling me. It succeeded ; and I was launched in the 
air, and dashed to the earth with a stunning violence. 

I felt myself dragged along the gravelly ground. I 
grasped the weeds, but they came away in my hands, torn up 
by the roots. There was a struggle above and around me. 
I could hear loud shouts and the firing of guns. I felt that 
I was being strangled. 

A bright object glistened before my eyes. I felt myself 
seized by a strong rough hand, and swung into the air and 
rudely shaken, as if in the grasp of some giant’s arm. 

Something twitched me sharply over the cheeks. I heard 
the rustling of trees. Branches snapped and crackled, and 
leaves swept across my face. Then came the flash — flash, 
and the crack — crack— crack of a dozen rifles, and under 
their blazing light I was dashed a second time with violence 
to the earth. 



The Jornada, or Journey of Death, Northern Mexico. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE RESCUE. 

OUGH handlin’, cap’n. Yer must excuse 
haste.” 

It was the voice of Lincoln. 

“ Ha ! in the timber ? Safe, then ! ” ejacu- 
lated I in return. 

“ Two or three wounded — not bad neither. 
Chane has got a stab in the hip — he gin the 
feller goss for it. Let me louze the darn thing 
off o’ your neck. It kum mighty near chokin’ yer, capt’n.” 

Bob proceeded to unwind the noose end of a lazo that, 
with some six feet of a raw hide thong, was still tightly 
fastened around my neck. 



179 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


i8o 

“ But who cut the rope ? ” demanded I. 

“I did, with this hyur toothpick. Yer see, cap’n, it 
w'asn’t yer time to be hung just yet.'*’ 

I could not help smiling as I thanked the hunter for my 
safety. 

“ But where are the guerilleros ? ” asked I, looking around, 
my brain still somewhat confused. 

“ Yander they are, keepin’ safe out o’ range o’ this long 
gun. Just listen to ’em ! — what a hillerballoo ! ” 

The Mexican horsemen were galloping out on the prairie, 
their arms glistening under the clear moonlight. 

“ Take to the trees, men ! ” cried I, seeing that the enemy 
had again unlimbered, and were preparing to discharge their 
howitzer. 

In a moment the iron shower came whizzing through the 
branches without doing any injury, as each of the men had 
covered his body with a tree. Several of the mules that 
stood tied and trembling were killed by the discharge. 

Another shower hurtled through the bushes, with a similar 
effect. 

I was thinking of retreating farther into the timber, and 
was walking back to reconnoiter the ground, when my eye 
fell upon an object that arrested my attention. It was the 
body of a very large man lying flat upon his face, his bead 
buried among the roots of a good-sized tree. The arms were 
stiffly pressed against his sides, and the legs projected at 
full stretch, exhibiting an appearance of motionless rigidity, 
as though a well-dressed corpse had been rolled over on its 
face. I at once recognized it as the body of the major, 
whom I supposed to have fallen dead where he lay. 

“ Good heavens ! Clayley, look here ” cried I ; “ poor 
Blossom’s killed ! ” 

“ No, I’ll be hanged if I am ! ” growled the latter, screw- 
ing his neck round like a lizard, and looking up without 
changing the attitude of his body. Clayley was convulsed 


THE RESCUE. 


lol 

with laughter. Th^^major sheathed his head again, as he 
knew that another shot from the howitzer might soon be 
expected. 

“ Major,” cried Clayley, “ that right shoulder of yours pro- 
jects over at least six inches.” 

“ I know it,” answered the major, in a frightened voice. 
“ dog gone the tree ! — it’s hardly big enough to cover a 
squirrel ; ” and he squatted closer to the earth, pressing his 
arms tighter against his sides. His whole attitude was so 
ludicrous that Clayle]^ burst into a second yell of laughter. 

At this moment a wild shout was heard from the guerilleros. 

“What next?” cried I, running toward the front, and 
looking out upon the prairie. 

“Them wildcats are gwine to cl’ar out, cap’n,” said 
Lincoln, meeting me. “I kin see them hitchin’ up.” 

“ It is as you say ! What can be the reason ? ” 

A strange commotion was visible in thegroups of horsemen. 
Scouts were galloping across the plain to a point of the 
woods about half a mile distant, and I could see the artil- 
lerists fastening their mules to the howitzer-carriage. Sud- 
denly a bugle rang out, sounding the “ Recall,” and the 
guerilleros, spurring their horses, galloped off toward Ne- 
dellin. 

A loud cheer, such as was never uttered by Mexican 
throats, came from the opposite edge of the prairie ; and 
looking in that direction, I beheld a long line of dark forms 
debouching from the woods at a gallop. Their sparkling 
blades, as they issued from the dark forest, glistened like a 
cordon of fireflies, and I recognized the heavy footfall of the 
American horse. A cheer from my men attracted their at- 
tention ; and the leader of the dragoons, seeing that the 
guerilleros had got far out of reach, wheeled his column to 
the right and came galloping down. 

“Is that Colonel Rawley?” inquired I, recognizing a 
dragoon officer. 


i 82 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Why, bless my soul, H ! ” exclaimed he, “ hov/ did 

you get out ? We heard you were jugged. All alive yet ? ” 

“ We have lost two,” I replied. 

“ Pah ! that’s nothing. I came out expecting to bury the 
whole kit of you. Here’s Clayley, too. Clayley, your 
friend Twing’s with us ; you’ll find him in the rear.” 

“ Ha ! Clayley, old boy ! ” cried Twing, coming up ; “ no 
bones broken ? all right ? Take a pull ; do you good — don’t 
drink it all, though — leave a thimbleful for Haller there. 
How do you like that ? ” 

“ Delicious, by Jove ! ” ejaculated Clayley, tugging away 
at the Georgia major’s flask. 

“Come, captain, try it.” 

“Thank you,” I replied, eagerly grasping the welcome 
flask. 

“ But where is old Bios.? killed, wounded or missing? ” 

“ I believe the major is not far off, and still uninjured.” 

I despatched a man for the major, who presently came up 
blowing and swearing like a Flanders trooper. 

“ Hilloa, Bios ! ” shouted Twing, grasping him by the hand. 

“ Why, bless me, Twing, I’m glad to see you ! ” answered 
Blossom, throwing his arms around the diminutive major. 
“ But where on earth is your pewter ? ” for during the em- 
brace he had been groping all over Twing’s body for the flask. 

“ Here, Cudjo ! That flask, boy ! ” 

“ Faith, Twing, I’m near choked ; we’ve been fighting 
all day — a devil of a fight ! I chased a whole squad of the 
cussed scoundrels on Hercules, and came within a squirrel’s 
jump of riding right into their nest. We’ve killed dozens ; 
but Haller will tell you all. He’s a good fellow, that Haller ; 
but he’s too rash — rash as blazes ! Hilloa, Hercules! glad 
to see you again, old fellow ; you had a sharp brush for it.” 

“ Remember your promise, major,” said I, as the major 
stood patting Hercules upon the shoulder. 

‘‘ ril do better, Captain. I’ll give you a choice between 


THE RESCUE. 


183 

Hercules and a splendid black I have. Faith ! it’s hard to 
part with you, old Herky, but I know the captain will like 
the black better : he’s the handsomest horse in the whole 
army ; bought him from poor Ridgely, who was killed at 
Monterey.” 

This speech of the major was delivered partly in soliloquy, 
partly in an apostrophe to Hercules, and partly to myself. 

“ Very well, major,” I replied. I'll take the black. 
Mr. Clayley, mount the men on their mules : you will take 
command of the company, and proceed with Colonel Raw- 
ley to camp. I shall go myself for the Don.” 

The last was said in a whisper to Clayley. 

“ We may not get in before noon to-morrow. Say nothing 
of my absence to any one. I shall make my report at noon 
to morrow.” 

“ And, captain ” said Clayley. 

“ Well, Clayley ^ ” 

“ You will carry back my ” 

“ What ? To which friend ? ” 

Of course, to Mary of the Light.” 

“ Oh, certainly ! ” 

“ In your best Spanish.” 

“ Rest assured,” said I, smiling at the earnestness of my 
friend. 

I was about moving from the spot, when the thought oc- 
curred to me to send the company to camp under command 
of Oakes, and take Clayley along with me. 

“Clayley, by the way,” said I, calling the lieutenant back, 
“ I don’t see why you may not carry your compliments in 
person. Oakes can take the men back. I shall borrow half 
a dozen dragoons from Rawley.” 

“ With all my heart,” replied Clayley. 

“ Come, then ; get a horse, and let us be off.” 

Taking Lincoln and Raoul, with half a dozen of Rawley ’s 
dragoons, I bade my friends good-night. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


184 

These started for camp by the road of Mata Cordera, while 
I with my little party brushed for some distance round 
the border of the prairie, and then climbed the hill, over which 
lay the path to the house of the Spaniard. 

As I reached the top of the ridge 1 turned to look upon 
the scene of our late skirmish. 

The cold, round moon, looking down upon the prairie of 
La Virgen, saw none of the victims of the fight. 

The guerilleros in their retreat had carried off their dead 
and wounded comrades, and the Americans slept under- 
ground in the lone corral : but I could not help fancying that 
gaunt wolves were skulking round the enclosure, and that 
the claws of the coyote were already tearing up the red earth 
that had been hurriedly heaped over their graves. 




CHAPTER XXV. 

THE COCUYO. 



NIGHT-RIDE through 
the golden tropical 
forest, when the moon 
is bathing its broad and 
wax-like frondage — when the 
winds are hushed and the long 
leaves hang drooping and silent — 
when the path conducts through 
dark aisles and arbors of green 
vine-leaves, and out again into 
bright and flowery glades — is one 
of those luxuries that I wish we 
could obtain without going beyond 
the limits of our own land. 

But no. The romance of the American 7iorthern forest — 
the romance that lingers around the gnarled limbs of the 
oak, and the maple, and the elm — that sighs with the wintry 

wind high up among the twigs of the shining sycamore— that 

185 


i86 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


flits along the huge fallen trunks — that nestles in the brown 
and rustling leaves — that hovers above the bold cliff and 
sleeps upon the gray rock — that sparkles in the diamond 
stalactites of the frost, or glides along the bosom of the cold 
black river— is a feeling or a fancy of a far different char- 
acter. 

These objects — themselves the emblems of the stony and 
iron things of nature — call up associations of the darker pas- 
sions : strange scenes of strife and bloodshed ; struggles be- 
tween red and white savages ; and struggles hardly less fierce 
with the wild beasts of the forest. The rifle, the tomahawk, 
and the knife are the visions conjured up, while the savage 
whoop and the dread yell echo in your ear ; and you dream 
of war. 

Far different are the thoughts that suggest themselves as 
you glide along under the aromatic arbors of the American 
southern forest, brushing aside the silken foliage, and tread- 
ing upon the shadows of picturesque palms. 

The cocuyo lights your way through the dark aisles, and 
the nightingale cheers you with his varied and mimic song. 
A thousand sights and sounds, that seem to be possessed of 
some mysterious and narcotic power, lull you into silence 
and sleep — a sleep whose dream is love. 

Clayley and I felt this as we rode silently along. Even 
the ruder hearts of our companions seemed touched by the 
same influence. 

We entered the dark woods that fringed the arroyo, and 
the stream was crossed in silence. Raoul rode in advance, 
acting as our guide. 

After a long silence Clayley suddenly awoke from his 
reverie and straightened himself up in the saddle. 

“ What time is it, captain ? ” he inquired. 

‘'Ten — a few minutes past,” answered I, holding my 
watch under the moonlight. 

“ I wonder if the Don’s in bed yet.” 


THE COCUYO. 187 

“ Not likely : he will be in distress ; he expected us an 
hour ago.” 

“ True, he will not sleep till we come ; all right then.” 

“ How all right then ? ” 

“ For our chances of a supper ; a cold pasty, with a glass 
of claret. What think you .? ” 

“ I do not feel hungry.” 

“ But I do — as a hawk. I long once more to sound the 
Don’s larder.” 



Puma, or American Lion of Mexico. 


“ Do you not long more to see ” 

“ Not to-night — no — that is, until after supper. Every- 
thing in its own time and place ; but a man with a hungi y 
stomach has no stomach for any thing but eating. I pledge 
you my word, Haller, I would rather at this moment see that 
grand old stewardess, Pepe, than the loveliest woman in 
Mexico, and that’s ‘ Mary of the Light.’ ” 

“ Monstrous ! ” 

“That is until after I have supped. Then my feelings 
will doubtless take a turn,” 

“ Ah ! Clayley, you can never love !” 


i88 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Why so, captain } ” 

“ With you, love is a sentiment, not a passion. You 
regard the fair blonde as you would a picture or a curious 
ornament.” 

“ You mean to say, then, that my love is “ all in my 
eye ? ” 

“ Exactly so, in a literal sense. I do not think it has 
reached your heart, else you would not be thinking of your 
supper. Now, I could go for days without food — sulfer any 
hardship ; but, no, you cannot understand this.” 

“ I confess not. I am too hungry.” 

“ You could forget — nay, I should not be surprised if you 
have already forgotten — all but the fact that your mistress 
is a blonde, with bright golden hair, Is it not so ? ” 

“ I confess, captain, that I should make but a poor por- 
trait of her from memory.” 

“ And, were I a painter, I could throw /ler features upon 
the canvas as truly as if they were before me. I see her 
face outlined upon these broad leaves — her dark eyes burn- 
ing in the flash of the cocuyo — her long black hair drooping 
from the feathery fringes of the palm — and her ” 

“ Stop ! You are dreaming, captain ! Her eyes are not 
dark — her hair is not black.” 

“ What ! Her eyes not dark? — as ebony or night! ” 

“ Blue as a turquoise ! ” 

“ Black ! What are you thinking of ? ” 

“ ‘ Mary of the Light’ ” 

“ Oh, that is quite a different affair ! ” and my friend and 
I laughed heartily at our mutual misconceptions. 

We rode on, again relapsing into silence. The stillness 
of the night was broken only by the heavy hoof bounding 
back from the hard turf, the jingling of spurs, or the ring- 
ing of the iron scabbard as it struck against the moving 
flanks of our horses. 

We had crossed the sandy spur, with its chapparal of 


THE COCUYO. 


189 

cactus and mezquite, and were entering a gorge of heavy 
timber, when the practised eye of Lincoln detected an ob- 
ject in the dark shadow of the woods, and communicated 
the fact to me. 

“ Halt ! ” cried I, in a low voice. 

The party reigned up at the order. A rustling was heard 
in the bushes ahead. 

“ Quien viva challenged Raoul, in the advance. 

Un amigo’’ (A friend), was the response. 

I sprang forward to the side of Raoul, and called out — 
Acercate ! acercate!” (Come near!) 

A figure moved out of the bushes, and approached. 

^^Esta el Capitan ? ” (Is it the captain ?) 

I recognized the guide given me by Don Cosme. 

The Mexican approached, and handed me a small piece 
of paper. I rode into an opening, and held it up to the moon- 
light ; but the writing was in pencil, and I could not make 
out a single letter. 

“ Try this, Clayley. Perhaps your eyes are better than 
mine.” 

“ No,” said Clayley, after examining the paper. “I can 
hardly see the writing upon it.” 

“ Esperate mi amo ” (Wait, my master), said the guide, 
making me a sign. We remained motionless. 

The Mexican took from his head his heavy sombrero, 
stepped into a darker recess of the forest. After standing 
for a moment, hat in hand, a brilliant object shot out from 
the leaves of the palma redonda. It was the cocuyo — the 
great firefly of the tropics. With a low humming sound it 
came glistening along at the height of seven or eight feet 
from the ground. The man sprang up, and with a sweep of 
his arm jerked it suddenly to the earth. Then, covering it 
with his hat, and inverting his hand, he caught the gleaming 
insect, and presented it to me with the ejaculation : 

“ Yal ” (Now I) 


IQO 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ No miierde ” (It does not bite), added he, as he saw that 
I hesitated to touch the strange, beetle-shaped insect. 

I took the cocuyo in my hand, the green, golden fire flash- 
ing from its great round eyes. I held it up before the writ- 



Mexican Indians Hunting with the Native Air-gun. 

ing, but the faint glimmer was scarcely discernible upon the 
paper. 

“ Why, it would require a dozen of these to make sufficient 
light,” I said to the guide. 

“ No, senor\ uno hasta — asi^' (No, sir ; one is enough — thus) ; 
and the Mexican, taking the cocuyo in his fingers, pressed it 
gently against the surface of the paper. It produced a bril- 


THE COCUYO. 191 

liant light, radiating over a circle of several inches in diam- 
eter ! 

Every point in the writing was plainly visible. 

“See, Clayley ! ” cried I, admiring this lamp of Nature’s 
own making. “ Never trust the tales of travelers. I have 
heard that half a dozen of these insects in a glass vessel 
would e'nable you to read the smallest type. Is that true ? ” 
added I, repeating what I had said in Spanish. 

No senor ni cincuenta'^ sir; nor fifty), replied the 
Mexican. 

“ And yet with a single cocuyo you may. But we are forget" 
ting — let us see what’s here.” 

I bent my head to the paper, and read in Spanish : 

I have made known your situation to the Americafi com~ 
mandcrA 

There was no signature nor other mark upon the paper. 

“From Don Cosme ? ” I inquired, in a whisper to the 
Mexican. 

“ Yes, senor,” was the reply. 

“ And how did you expect to reach us in the corral 

“ Asi'' (So), said the man holding up a shaggy bull’s hide 
which he carried over his arm. 

“ We have friends here, Clayley. Come, my good fellow, 
take this ! ” and I handed a gold eagle to the peon. 

“ Forward ! ” 

The tinkling of canteens, the jingling of sabers, and the 
echo of bounding hoofs recommenced. We were again in 
motion, filing on through the shadowy woods. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

LUP]^ AND LUZ. 

HORTLY after, we debouched from the forest, 
entering the open fields of Don Cosine’s plan- 
tation. There was a flowery brilliance, around 
us, full of novelty. We had been accustomed to 
the ruder scenes of a northern clime. The tropical moon 
threw a gauzy veil over objects that softened their outlines ; 
and the notes of the nightingale were the only sounds that 
broke the stillness of what seemed a sleeping elysium. 

Once a vanilla plantation, here and there the aromatic 
bean grew wild, its ground usurped by the pita-plant, the 
192 



LUPE AND LUZ. 


193 


acacia, and the thorny cactus. The dry reservoir and the 
ruined acequia proved the care that had in former times been 
bestowed on its irrigation. Guardarayas of palms and 
orange-trees, choked up with vines and jessamines, marked 
the ancient boundaries of the fields. Clusters of fruit and 
flowers hung from the drooping branches, and the aroma of 
a thousand sweet-scented shrubs was wafted upon the night 
air. We felt its narcotic influence as we rode along. The 
helianthus bowed its golden head as if weeping at the ab- 
sence of its god ; and the cereus spread its bell-shaped blos- 
som, joying in the more mellow light of the moon. 

The guide pointed to one of the guardarayas that led to 
the house. We struck into it, and rode forward. The path 
was pictured by the moonbeams as they glanced through 
the half-shadowing leaves. A wild roe bounded away be- 
fore us, brushing his soft flanks against the rustling thorns 
of the mezquite. ^ 

Farther on we reached the grounds, and, halting behind 
the jessamines, dismounted. Clayley and myself entered 
the enclosure. 

As we pushed through a copse we were saluted by the 
hoarse bark of a couple of mastiffs ; and we could perceive 
several forms moving in front of the rancho. We stopped a 
moment to observe them. 

“ Qiiiiate^ Carlo f Pompo I ” (Be off. Carlo ! Pompo !) 
The dogs growled fiercely, barking at intervals. 

“ Papa^ mandalos I ” (Papa, order them off !) 

We recognized the voices, and pressed forward. 

'‘^Afuera^ malditos perros ! abajo I ” (Out of the way, wicked 
dogs ! — down !), shouted Don Cosme, chiding the fierce 
brutes and driving them back. 

The dogs were secured by several domestics and we ad- 
vanced. 

“ Qiiien es ? ” inquired Don Cosme. 

“ Amigos (Friends), I replied. 


194 the rifle rangers. 

“ Papa / papal es el capitanl ” (Papa, it is the captain !) 
cried one of the sisters, who had run out in advance, and 
whom I recognized- as the elder one. 



Vegetable Milk from the Cow-tree of Tropical America. 

“ Do not be alarmed, sefiorita,’’ said I, approaching. 

“ Oh ! you are safe — you are safe ! — papa, he is safe ! ” 



LUPE AND LUZ. 195 

cried both the girls at once ; while Don Cosine exhibited his 
joy by hugging my comrade and myself alternately. 

Suddenly letting go, he threw up his hands, and inquired 
with a look of anxiety ; 

“ y el serior go rdo ? ” (And the fat gentleman ?) 

“ Oh ! he’s all right,” replied Clayley, with a laugh ; “ he 
has saved his bacon, Don Cosme ; though I imagine about 
this time he wouldn’t object to a little of yours.” 

I translated my companion’s answer. The latter part of 
it seemed to act upon Don Cosme as a hint, and we were im- 
mediately hurried to the dining-room, where we found the 
Doha Joaquina preparing supper. 

During our meal I recounted the principal events of the 
day. Don Cosme knew nothing of these guerilleros, al- 
though he had heard that there were bands in the neighbor- 
hood. Learning from the guide that we had been attacked, 
he had despatched a trusty servant to the American camp 
and Raoul had met the party coming to our rescue. 

After supper Don Cosme left us to give some orders rela- 
tive to his departure in the morning. His lady set about 
preparing the sleeping apartments, and my companion and 
I were left for some time in the sweet companionship of 
Lupe and Luz. 

Both were exquisite musicians, playing the harp and 
guitar with equal cleverness. Many a pure Spanish melody 
was poured into the delighted ears of my friend and myself. 
The thoughts that arose in our minds were doubtless of a 
similar kind ; and yet how strange that our hearts should 
have been warmed to love by beings so different in character ! 
The gay, free spirit of my comrade seemed to have met a re- 
sponsive echo. He and his brilliant partner laughed, chatted, 
and sang in turns. In the incidents of the moment this 
light-hearted creature had forgotten her brother, yet the next 
moment she would weep for him. A tender heart — a heart 
of joys and sorrows— of ever-changing emotions, coming 


196 THE RIFLE RANGERS. 

and passinge kil shadows thrown by straggling clouds up- 
on the sunlit stream ! 

Unlike was our converse — more serious. We may not 
laugh, lest we should profane the holy sentiment that is 
stealing upon us. There is no mirth in love. There are 
joy, pleasure, luxury ; but laughter finds no echo in the 
heart that loves. Love is a feeling of anxiety — of expec- 
tation. The harp is set aside. The guitar lies untouched 
for a sweeter music — the music that vibrates from the strings 
of the heart. Are our eyes not held together by some in- 
visible chain ? Are not our souls in communion through 
some mysterious means ? It is not language — at least, not 
the language of words ; for we are conversing upon indiifer- 
ent things — not indifferent, either. Narcisso, Narcisso — a 
theme fraternal. His peril casts a cloud over our happiness. 

“ Oh ! that he were here — then we could be happy indeed.” 

“ He will return ; fear not — grieve not ; to-morrow your 
father will easily find him. I shall leave no means untried to 
restore him to so fond a sister.” 

“ Thanks ! thanks ! Oh ! we are already indebted to you 
so much.” 

Are those eyes swimming with love, or gratitude, or both 
at once? Surely gratitude alone does not speak so wildly. 
Could this scene not last forever ? 

“ Good-night — good-night ! ” 

Senores.pasan Vds. buena nochel ” (Gentlemen, may you 
pass a pleasant night !) 

They are gone, and those oval developments of face and 
figure are floating before me, as though the body itself were 
still present. It is the soft memory of love in all its growing 
distinctness ! 

******* 

We were shown to our sleeping apartments. Our men pick- 
eted their horses under the olives, and slept in the bamboo 
rancho, a single sentry walking his rounds during the night. 


My Bed-Chamber at Don Cosme’s. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


A TOUGH NIGHT OF IT AFTER ALL. 



ENTERED my chamber — to sleep? No. 

it contained a bed fit for Morpheus 
^ canopied and curtained with cloth 


from the looms of Damascus : shining rods 
i roofed upwards, and met in an ornamental de- 
^ sign, where the god of sleep, fanned by virgins 
of silver, reclined upon a couch of roses. 

I drew aside the curtains — a bank of snow — 
pillows, as if prepared for the cheek of a beautiful bride. 
I had not slept in a bed for two months. A close crib in a 
transport ship — a “ shake-down ” among the scorpions and 
spiders of Lobos — a single blanket among the sand-hills, 
where it was not unusual to wake up half buried by the drift. 

These were my souvenirs. Fancy the prospect ! It cer- 
tainly invited repose ; and yet I was in no humor to sleep. 


197 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


198 

My brain was in a whirl. The strange incidents of the day 
— some of them were mysterious — crowded into my mind. 
My whole system, mental as well as physical, was flushed ; 
and thought followed thought with nervous rapidity. 

My heart shared the excitement — chords long silent had 
been touched — the divine element was fairly enthroned. I 
was in love ! 

It was not the first passion of my life, and I easily recog- 
nized it. Even jealousy had begun to distil its poison — 
“ Don Santiago ! ” 

I was standing in front of a large mirror, when I noticed 
two small miniatures hanging against the wall — one on each 
side of the glass. 

I bent over to examine, first, that which hung upon the 
right. I gazed with emotion. They were features ; “ and 
yet,” thought I, “ the painter has not flattered her ; it might 
better represent her ten years hence : still, the likeness is 
there. Stupid artist ! ” I turned to the other. “ Her fair 
sister, no doubt. Gracious heaven ! Do my eyes deceive 
me ? No, the black wavy hair — the arching brows — the 
sinister lip — Dubrosc ! ” 

A sharp pang shot through my heart. I looked at the 
picture again and again with a kind of incredulous bewilder- 
ment ; but every fresh examination only strengthened con- 
viction. “ There is no mistaking those features — they are 
his ! ” Paralyzed with the shock, I sank into a chair, my 
heart filled with the most painful emotions. 

For some moments I was unable to think, much less to act. 

“ What can it mean ? Is this accomplished villain a 
fiend ? — the fiend of my existence ? — thus to cross me at 
every point, perhaps in the end to ” 

Our mutual dislike at first meeting — Lobos — his reappear- 
ance upon the sand-hills, the mystery of his passing the lines 
and again appearing with the guerilla — all came forcibly 


A TOUGH NIGHT OF IT AFTER ALL. IQQ 


upon my recollection ; and now I seized the lamp and rushed 
back to the pictures. 

“ Yes, I am not mistaken ; it is he — it is she, her features 
— all — all. And thus, too ! — the position — side by side — 
counter-parts ! There are no others on the wall ; matched — 
mated — perhaps betrothed ! His name, too, Don Emilio ! 
The American who taught them English ! His is Emile — 
the voice on the island cried ‘ Emile ! ’ Oh, the coinci- 
dence is complete ! This villain, handsome and accomplished 
as he is, has been here before me ! Betrothed — perhaps 
married— perhaps — Torture ! horrible ! ” 

I reeled back to my chair, dashing the lamp recklessly 
upon the table. I know not how long I sat, but a world of 
wintry thoughts passed through my heart and brain. A 
clock striking from a large picture awoke me from my reverie. 
I did not count the hours. Music began to play behind the 
picture. It was a sad, sweet air, that chimed with my feel- 
ings, and to some extent soothed them. I rose at length, 
and, hastily undressing, threw myself upon the bed, mentally 
resolving to forget all — to forget that I had ever seen her. 

“ I will rise early — return to camp without meeting her, 
and, once there, my duties will drive away this painful fancy. 
The drum and the fife and the roar of the cannon will drown 
remembrance. Ha ! it was only a passing thought at best — 
the hallucination of a moment. I shall easily get rid of it. 
Ha ! ha ! ” 

I laid my fevered cheek upon the soft, cold pillow. I felt 
composed — almost happy. 

“ A creole of New Orleans ! How could he have been 
here ? Oh ! have I not the explanation already ? Why 
should I dwell on it ? ” 

A jealous heart — it is easy to say “ forget.” 

I tried to prevent my thoughts from returning to this 
theme. I directed them to a thousand things : to the ships 


200 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


— to the landing — to the army — to the soldiers — to the but- 
tons upon their jackets and the swabs upon their shoulders 
— to everything I could think of : all in vain. Back, back, 
back ! in painful throes it came, and my heart throbbed, and 
my brain burned with bitter memoriec freshly awakened. 

I turned and tossed upon my couch for many a long hour. 
The clock in the picture struck, and played the same music 
again and again, still soothing me as before. Even despair 
has its moments of respite ; and, worn with fatigue, mental 
as well as physical, I listened to the sad, sweet strain, until 
it died away into my dreams. 




Hanging Nests of the Pensile Weaver Bird. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE LIGHT AFTER THE SHADE. 

HEN I awoke all was 
darkness around me. I 
threw out my arms and 
opened the damask cur- 
tains. Not a ray of light en- 
tered the room. I felt refreshed, 
and from this I concluded I must 
have slept long. I slipped out upon 
the floor and commenced groping 



for my watch. Some one knocked. 

“ Come in I ” I called. 

The door opened, and a flood of light gushed into the 
apartment. It was a servant bearing a lamp. 

“ What is the hour ? ” I demanded. 


201 


202 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Nine o’clock, mi amo ” (my master), was the reply. 

The servant set down the lamp and went out. Another 
immediately entered, carrying a salver with a small gold cup. 

“ What have you there ? ” 

“ Chocolate ^ master ; Doha Joaquina has sent it.” 

I drank off the beverage, and hastened to dress myself. 
I was reflecting whether I should pass on to camp without 
seeing any one of the family. Somehow, my heart felt less 
heavy. I believe the morning always brings relief to pain, 
either mental or bodily. It seems to be a law of nature — at 
least, so my experience tells me. The morning air, buoyant 
and balmy, dulls the edge of anguish. New hopes arise and 
new projects appear with the sun. The invalid, couch-toss- 
ing through the long watches of the night, will acknowledge 
this truth. 

I did not approach the mirror. I dared not. 

“ I will not look upon the loved, the hated face — no, on to 
the camp ! — let Lethe Has my friend arisen ? ” 

“ Yes, master ; he has been up for hours.” 

“ Ha ! where is he ? ” 

“ In the garden, master.” 

“ Alone ? ” 

“ No, master ; he is with the nihas ? ” 

“ Happy, light-hearted Clayley ! No jealous thoughts to 
torture him ! ” mused I, as I buckled on my stock. 

I had observed that the fair-haired sister and he were 
kindred spirits — sympathetic natures, who only needed to be 
placed rapport \.o “ like each other mightily” — beings who 
could laugh, dance, and sing together, romp for months, and 
then get married, as a thing of course; but, should any 
accident prevent this happy consummation, could say “good- 
by and part without a broken heart on either side ; an easy 
thing for natures like theirs ; a return exchange of numerous 
billets-doux, a laugh over the past, and a light heart for the 


THE LIGHT AFTER THE SHADE. 203 

future. Such is the history of many a love. I can vouch 
for it. How different with 

“ Tell my friend, when he returns to the house, that I wish 
to see him.” 

“Yes, master.” 

The servant bowed and left the room. 

In a few minutes Clayley made his appearance, gay as a 
grasshopper. 

“ So, good lieutenant, you have been improving your time, 
I hear ? ” 

“ Haven’t I, though ? Such a delicious stroll ! Haller, 
this is a paradise.” 

“ Where have you been ? ” 

“ Feeding the swans,” replied Clayley, with a laugh. 
“ But, by the way, your chh'e amie hangs her pretty head 
this morning. She seems hurt that you have not been up. 
She kept constantly looking towards the house.” 

“ Clayley, will you do me the favor to order the men to 
their saddles ? ” 

“ What ! going so soon ? Not before breakfast, though ? ” 

“ In five minutes.” 

“Why, captain, what’s the matter? And such a break- 
fast as they are getting ! Oh ! Don Cosme will not hear 
of it.” 

“ Don Cosme ” 

Our host entered at that moment, and, listening to his 
remonstrances, the order was rescinded, and I consented to 
remain. 

I saluted the ladies with as much courtesy as I could as- 
sume. I could not help the coldness of my manner, and I 
could perceive that with her it did not pass unobserved. 

We sat down to the breaklast-table ; but my heart was full 
of bitterness, and I scarcely touched the delicate viands that 
were placed before me. 


204 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ You do not eat, captain. I hope you are well ? said 
Don Cosme, observing my strange and somewhat rude, de- 
meanor. 

“ Thank you, sehor, I never enjoyed better health.” 

I studiously avoided looking towards her, paying slight 
attentions to her sister. This is the game of piques. Once 
or twice I ventured a side-glance. Her eyes were bent 
upon me with a strange, inquiring look. 

They are swimming in tears, and soft, and forgiving. 
They are swollen. She has been weeping. That is not 
strange. Her brother’s danger is, no doubt, the cause of 
her sorrow. 

Yet, is there not reproach in her looks ? Reproach ! How 
ill does my conduct of last night correspond with this affected 
coldness — this rudeness ! Can she, too, be suffering ? 

I arose from the table, and, walking forth, ordered Lincoln 
to prepare the men for marching. 

I strolled down among the orange trees. Clayley followed 
soon after, accompanied by both the girls. Don Cosme re- 
mained at the house to superintend the saddling of his mule, 
while Doha Joaquina was packing the necessary articles into 
his portmanteau. 

Following some silent instinct, we — Guadalupe and I — 
came together. Clayley and his mistress had strayed away, 
leaving us alone. I had not yet spoken to her. I felt a 
strange impulse — a desire to know the worst. I felt as one 
looking over a fearful precipice. 

Then I will brave the danger ; it can be no worse than 
this agony of suspicion and suspense. 

I turned towards her. Her head was bent to one side. 
She was crushing an orange-flower between her fingers, and 
her eyes seemed to follow the dropping fragments. 

How beautiful was she at that moment ! 

“ The artist certainly has not flattered you.” 


THE LIGHT AFTER THE SHADE. 205 

She looked at me with a bewildered expression. Oh, 
those swimming eyes ! 

She did not understand me. 

I repeated the observation. 

“ Sehor capitan, what do you mean ? ” 

“ That the painter has not done you justice. The portrait 
is certainly a likeness, yet the expression, I think, should 
have been younger.” 

“ The painter ! What painter ? The portrait ? What 
portrait, sehor ? ” 

“ I refer to your portrait, which I accidentally found hang- 
ing in my apartment.” 

“ Ah ! by the mirror ? ” 

“ Yes, by the mirror.” I answered sullenly. 

“ But it is not mine^ sehor capitan.” 

“ Ha ! — how ? Not yours ! ” 

“ No : it is the portrait of my cousin, Maria de Merced. 
They say we were much alike.” 

My heart expanded. My whole frame quivered under the 
influence of joyful emotions. 

“ And the gentleman ? ” I faltered out. 

“ Don Emilio ? He was cousin’s lover — huyerori'' (they 
eloped). 

As she repeated the last word, she turned her head away, 
and I thought there was a sadness in her manner. 

I was about to speak, when she continued : 

“ It was her room — we have not touched anything.” 

“ And where is your cousin now ? ” 

“ We know not.” 

“ There is a mystery,” thought I. I pressed the subject no 
farther. It was nothing to me now. My heart was happy. 

“ Let us walk farther, Lupita.” 

She turned her eyes upon me with an expression of won- 
der. The change in my manner — so sudden — how was she 


2o6 the rifle rangers. 

to account for it ? I could have knelt before her and ex- 
plained all. Reserve disappeared, and the confidence of the 
preceding night was fully restored. 

We wandered along under guard aruyas, amidst sounds 
and scenes suggestive of love and tenderness. Love ! We 
heard it in the songs of the birds — in the humming of the 
bees — in the voices of all nature around us. We felt it in 
our own hearts. The late cloud had passed, making the sky 
still brighter than before : the reaction had heightened our 
mutual passion to the intensity of non-resistance ; and we 
walked on, her hand clasped in mine. We had eyes only for 
each other. 

We reached a clump of cocoa-trees ; one of them had fall- 
en, and its smooth trunk offered a seat, protected from the 
sun by the shadowy leaves of its fellows. On this we sat 
down. There was no resistance — no reasoning process — 
no calculation of advantages and chances, such as is too of- 
ten mingled with the noble passion of love. We felt nothing 
of this — nothing but that undefinable impulse which had en- 
tered our hearts, and to whose mystical power neither of us 
dreamed of offering opposition. Delay and duty were alike 
forgotten. 

“ I shall ask the question now — I shall know my fate at 
once,” were my thoughts. 

In the changing scenes of a soldier’s life there is but little 
time for the slow formalities, the zealous vigils, the compli- 
cated finesse of courtship. Perhaps this consideration im- 
pelled me. I have but little confidence in the cold heart that 
is won by a series of assiduities. There is too much calcu- 
lation of after-events — too much selfishness. 

These reflections passed through my mind. I bent towards 
my companion, and whispered to her in that language — rich 
above all others in the vocabulary of the heart : 

“ Guadalupe^ tu meamas ? ” (Guadalupe, do you love me ?) 


THE LIGHT AFTER THE SHADE. 


207 


“ Yo te amo! ” was the simple reply. Need I describe the 
joyful feeling that filled my heart at that moment ? My hap- 
piness was complete. 

The confession rendered her sacred in my eyes, and we sat 
for some time silent, enjoying that transport only known to 
those who have truly, purely loved. 

The trampling of hoofs ! It was Clayley at the head of 
the troop. They were mounted, and waiting for me. Don 
Cosme was impatient; so was the Dona Joaquina. I could 
not blame them, knowing the cause. 

“ Ride forward ! I shall follow presently.” 

The horsemen filed off into the fields, headed by the lieu- 
tenant, beside whom rode Don Cosme, on his white mule. 

“ You will soon return, Enrique ? ” 

“ I shall lose no opportunity of seeing you. I shall long 
for the hour more than you, I fear.” 

“ Oh ! no, no ! ” 

“ Believe me yes, Lupita ! Say again you will never 
cease to love me.” 

“ Never, never ! Tuya — tuya — hasta la muerte I ” (Yours 
— yours — till death !) 

How often has this question been asked ! How often an- 
swered as above ! 

I sprang into the saddle. A parting look — another from 
a distance — a wave of the hand — and the next moment I was 
, urging my horse in full gallop under the shadowy palms. 



A Bamboo Bridge in Southern Mexico. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

A DISAPPOINTMENT AND A NEW PLAN. 

OVERTOOK my companions as they 
were entering the woods. Clayley, 
who had been looking back from time 
to time, brushed alongside as if wish- 
ing to enter into conversation. 
“Hard work, captain, to leave such quarters. By Jove ! 
I could have stayed forever.” 

“ Come, Clayley — you are in love.” 

“ Yes ; they who live in glass houses Oh ! if I could 

only speak the lingo as you do ! ” 

I could not help smiling, for I had overheard him through 
the trees making the most he could of his partner’s broken 
208 



A DISAPPOINTMENT AND A NEW PLAN. 209 

English. I was curious to know how he had sped, and 
whether he had been as “ quick upon the trigger ” as myself. 
My curiosity was soon relieved. 

“ I tell you, captain,” he continued, “ if I could only have 
talked it, I would have put the question on the spot. I did 
try to get a “yes ” or a “ no ” out of her; but she either 
couldn’t or wouldn’t understand me. It was all bad luck.” 

“ Could you not make her understand you ? Surely she 
knows English enough for that ? ” 

“ I thought so too ; but when I spoke about love, she 
only laughed and slapped me on the face with her fan. Oh 
no ; the thing must be done in Spanish, that’s plain ; and 
you see I am going to set about it in earnest. She loaned 
me these.” 

Saying this, he pulled out of the crown of his foraging- 
cap a couple of small volumes, which I recognized as 
a Spanish grammar and dictionary. I could not resist 
laughing aloud. 

“ Comrade, you will find the best dictionary to be the 
lady herself.” 

“ That’s true ; but how the deuce are we to get back 
again ? A mule-hunt don’t happen every day.” 

“ I fancy there will be some difficulty in it.” 

I had already thought of this. It was no easy matter to 
steal away from camp — one’s brother-officers are so solici- 
tous about your appearance at drills and parades. Don 
Cosme’s rancho was at least ten miles from the lines, and 
the road would not be the safest for the solitary lover. The 
prospect of frequent returns was not at all flattering. 

“ Can’t we steal out at night ? ” suggested Clayley. “ I 
think we might mount half a dozen of our fellows and do it 
snugly. What do you say, captain ? ” 

“ Clayley, I cannot return without this brother. I have 
almost given my word to that effect.” 

14 


210 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ You have ? That is bad ! I fear there is no prospect 
of getting him out as you propose.” 

My companion’s prophetic foreboding proved but too 
correct ; for on nearing the camp we were met by an aide, 
de-camp of the commander-in-chief, who informed me that 
on that very morning, all communication between the 
foreign ships of war and the besieged city had been pro- 
hibited. 

Don Cosme’s journey, then, would be in vain. I explained 
this, advising him to return to his family. 

Do not make it known — say that some time is required, 
and you have left the matter in my hands. Be assured I 
shall be among the first to enter the city, and I shall find 
the boy, and bring him to his mother in safety.” 

This was the only consolation I could offer. 

“ You are kind, captain — very kind ; but I know that 
nothing can now be done. We can only hope and pray.” 

The old man had dropped into a bent attitude, his coun- 
tenance marked by the deepest melancholy. 

Taking the Frenchman, Raoul, along with me, I rode 
back until I had placed him beyond the danger of the strag- 
gling plunderer, when we shook hands and parted. As he 
left me, I turned to look after him. He still sat in that 
attitude that betokens deep dejection, his shoulders bent 
forward over the neck of his mule, while he gazed vacantly 
on the path. My heart sank at the spectacle, and, sad and 
dispirited, I rode at a lagging pace towards the camp. 

Not a shot had as yet been fired against the town, but 
our batteries were nearly perfected, and several mortars 
were mounted and ready to fling in their deadly missiles. 
I knew that every shot and shell would carry death into the 
devoted city, for there was not a point within its walls out 
of range of a ten-inch howitzer. Women and children must 
perish along with armed soldiers ; and the boy — he, too, 


A DISAPPOINTMENT AND A NEW PLAN. 21 1 


might be a victim. Would this be the tidings I should carry 
to his home ? And how should I be received by her with 
such a tale upon my lips ? Already had I sent back a 
sorrowing father. 

“ Is there no way to save him, Raoul ? ” 

“ Captain ? ” inquired the man, starting at the vehemence 
of my manner. 

A sudden thought had occurred to me. 

“ Are you well acquainted with Vera Cruz ? ” 

“ I know every street, captain.” 

“ Where do those arches lead that open from the sea ? 
There is one on each side of the mole.” 

I had observed these when visiting a friend, an officer of 
the navy, on board his ship. 

“ They are conductors, captain, to carry off the overflow 
of the sea after a norther. They lead under the city, opening 
at various places. I have had the pleasure of passing 
through them.” 

“Ha! How?” 

“ On a little smuggling expedition.” 

“ It is possible, then, to reach the town by these ? ” 

“ Nothing easier, unless they may have a guard at the 
mouth ; but that is not likely. They would not dream of 
any one’s making the attempt.” 

“ How would you like to make it ? ” 

“ If the captain wishes it, I will bring him a bottle of eau- 
de-vie from the Cafd de Santa Anna.” 

“ I do not wish you to go alone. I would accompany 
you.” 

“ Think of it, captain ; there is risk for you in such an 
undertaking, /may go safely. No one knows that I have 
joined you, I believe. If you are taken ” 

“ Yes, yes ; I know well the result.” 

“ The risk is not great, either,” continued the French- 


212 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


man, in a half-soliloquy. “ Disguised as Mexicans, we 
might do it ; you speak the language as well as I. If you 
wish it, captain ” 

“I do.” 

“ I am ready, then.” 

I knew the fellow well : one of those dare-devil spirits 
ready for anything that promised adventure — a child of 
fortune — a stray waif tumbling about upon the waves of 
chance — gifted with head and heart of no common order — 
ignorant of books, yet educated in experience. There was 
a dash of the heroic in his character that had won my ad- 
miration, and I was fond of his company. 

It was a desperate adventure — I knew that; but I felt 
stronger interest than common in the fate of this boy. My 
own future fate, too, was in a great degree connected with 
his safety. There was something in the very danger that 
lured me on to tempt it. I felt that it would be adding 
another chapter to a life which I have termed “ adventu- 


rous. 



A Serenade in Vera Cruz. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


A FOOLHARDY ADVENTURE. 



T night Raoul and I, disguised in the leathern 
dresses of two rancheros, stole round the 
lines, and reached Punta Hornos, a point 
beyond our own pickets. Here we “ took 
the water,” wading waist-deep. 

This was about ten o’clock. The tide was 
just setting out, and the night, by good fortune, 
was as dark as pitch. 

As the swell rolled in we were buried to the neck, and 
when it rolled back again we bent forward ; so that at no 
time could much of our bodies be seen above the surface. 

213 


214 the rifle rangers. 

In this manner, half wading, half swimming, we kept up 
to the town. 

It was a toilsome journey, but the water was warm, and 
the sand on the bottom firm and level. We were strengthened 
— I at least — by hope and the knowledge of danger. Doubt- 
less my companion felt the latter stimulant as much as I. 

We soon reached the battlements of Santiago, where we 
proceeded with increased caution. We could see the sentry 
up against the sky, pacing along the parapet. His shrill 
cry startled us. We thought we had been discovered. The 
darkness alone prevented this. 

At length we passed him, and came opposite the city, 
whose battlements rested upon the water’s edge. 

The tide was at ebb, and a bed of black, weed-covered 
rocks lay between the sea and the bastion. 

We approached these with caution, and crawling over the 
slippery boulders, after a hundred yards or so found ourselves 
in the entrance of one of the conductors. 

Here we halted to rest ourselves, sitting down upon a 
ledge of rock. We were in no more danger there than in 
our own tents, yet within twenty feet were men who, had 
they known our proximity, would have strung us up like a 
pair of dogs. 

But our danger was far from lying at this end of the ad- 
venture. 

After a rest of half an hour we kept up into the conductor. 
My companion seemed perfectly at home in this subter- 
ranean passage, walking along as boldly as if it had been 
brilliantly lighted with gas. 

After proceeding some distance we approached a grating 
where a light shot in from above. 

“ Can we pass out here ? ” I inquired. 

“ Not yet, captain,” answered Raoul in a whisper. 
“ Farther on.” 


A FOOLHARDY ADVENTURE. 2l5 

We passed the grating, then another and another, and at 
length reached one where only a feeble ray struggled down- 
ward through the bars. 

Here my guide stopped, and listened attentively for 
several minutes. Then, stretching out his hand, he undid 
the fastening of the grate, and silently turned it upon its 
hinge. He next swung himself up until his head projected 
above ground. In this position he again listened, looking 
cautiously on all sides. 

Satisfied at length that there was no one near, he drew his 
body up through the grating and disappeared. After a 
short interval he returned, and called down : 

“ Come, captain.” 

I swung myself up to the street. Raoul shut down the 
trap with care. 

“ Take marks, captain,” whispered he ; “ we may get 
separated.” 

It was a dismal suburb. No living thing was apparent, 
with the exception of a gang of prowling dogs, lean and 
savage, as all dogs are during a siege. An image, decked 
in all the glare of gaud and tinsel, looked out of a glazed 
niche in the opposite wall. A dim lamp burned at its feet, 
showing to the charitable a receptacle for their offerings. 
A quaint old steeple loomed in the darkness overhead. 

“ What church ? ” I asked Raoul. 

“La Magdalena.” 

“ That will do. Now onward.” 

“ Buenas noches^ senor !'' said Raoul to a soldier who 
passed us, wrapped in his great-coat. 

“ Buenas noches returned the man in a gruff voice. 

We stole cautiously along the streets, keeping in the darker 
ones to avoid observation. The citizens were mostly in 
their beds ; but groups of soldiers were straggling about, 
and patrols met us at every corner. 


2i6 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


It became necessary to pass through one of the streets 
that was brilliantly lighted. When about half-way up it 
a fellow came swinging along, and, noticing our strange 
appearance, stopped and looked after us. 

Our dresses, as I have said, were of leather ; our cal- 
zoneros, as well as jackets, were shining with the sea-water, 
and dripping upon the pavement at every step. 

Before we could walk beyond reach, the man shouted 
out : 

“ Carajo I Caballeros^ why don’t you strip before entering 
the baho ? ” 

“ What is it ? ” cried a soldier, coming up and stopping 
us. 

A group of his comrades joined him, and we were hurried 
into the light. 

“ Mil diablos /” exclaimed one of the soldiers, recognizing 
Raoul ; “ our old friend the Frenchman ! Parlez-vous 
Pran^ais, monsieur I ” 

“ Spies ! ” cried another. 

“ Arrest them ! ” shouted a sergeant of the guard, at the 
moment coming up with a patrol, and we were both jumped 
upon and held by about a dozen men. 

In vain Raoul protested our innocence, declaring that we 
were only two poor fishermen, who had wet our clothes in' 
drawing the nets. 

“ It’s not a fisherman’s costume, monsieur,” said one. 

“ Fishermen don’t usually wear diamonds on their knuck- 
les,” cried another, snatching a ring from my finger. 

On this ring, inside the circlet, were engraven my name 
and rank I , 

Several men, now coming forward, recognized Raoul, and 
stated, moreover, that he had been missing for some days, 

“ He must, therefore,” said they, “ have been with the 
Yankees.” 


A FOOLHARDY ADVENTURE. 2l7 

We were soon handcuffed and marched off to the guard- 
prison. There we were closely searched, but nothing further 
was found, except my purse, containing several gold eagles 
— an American coin that of itself would have been sufficient 
evidence to condemn me. 

We were now heavily chained to each other, after which 
the guard left us to our thoughts. They could not have left 
us in much less agreeable companionship. 




CHAPTER XXXL 

HELP FROM HEAVEN. 

WOULD not care a 
daco for my own life,” 
said Raoul, as the gate 
closed upon us, “ but 
that you, captain — helas / helas ! ' 
and the Frenchman groaned and 
sank upon the stone bench, drag- 
ging me down also. 

I could offer no consolation. I knew that we should be 
tried as spies ; and, if convicted — a result almost certain — 
we had not twenty hours to live. The thought that I had 
brought this brave fellow to such a fate enhanced the misery 
of my situation. To die thus ingloriously was bitter indeed. 
Three days ago I could have spent my life recklessly ; but 
now, how changed were my feelings ! I had found some- 
218 





HELP FROM HEAVEN. 2 IQ 

thing worth living to enjoy ; and to think I should never 
again — “ Oh I have become a coward ! ” I cursed my 
rashness bitterly. 

We passed the night in vain attempts at mutual consola- 
tion. Even our present sufferings occupied us. Our clothes 
were wet through, and the night had become piercingly 
cold. Our bed was a bench of stone ; and upon this we lay 
as our chains would allow us, sleeping close together to 
generate warmth. It was to us a miserable night ; but 
morning came at last, and at an early hour we were examined 
by the officer of the guard. 

Our court-martial was fixed for the afternoon, and before 
this tribunal we were carried, amidst the jeers of the popu- 
lace. We told our story, giving the name of the boy Nar- 
cisso, and the house where he was lodged. This was 
verified by the court, but declared to be a ruse invented by 
my comrade — whose knowledge of the place and other cir- 
cumstances rendered the thing probable enough. Raoul, 
moreover, was identified by many of the citizens, who proved 
his disappearance coincident with the landing of the Ameri- 
can expedition. Besides, my ring and purse were sufficient 
of themselves to condemn us — and condemned we were. 
We were to be garotted on the following morning ! 

Raoul was offered life if he wound turn traitor and give 
information of the enemy. The brave soldier indignantly 
spurned the offer. It was extended to me, with a similar 
result. 

All at once I observed a strange commotion among the 
people. Citizens and soldiers rushed from the hall, and the 
court, hastily pronouncing our sentence, ordered us to be 
carried away. We were seized by the guard, pulled into the 
street, and dragged back towards our late prison. Our con- 
ductors were evidently in a great hurry. As we passed 
along we were met by citizens running to and fro, apparently 


220 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


in great terror — women and children uttering shrieks and 
suddenly disappearing behind walls and battlements. Some 
fell upon their knees, beating their breasts and praying 
loudly. Others, clasping their infants, stood shivering and 
speechless. 

“It is just like the way they go in an earthquake,” re- 
marked Raoul, “ but there is none. What can it be, cap- 
tain ? ” 

Before I could reply, the answer came from another 
quarter. 

Far above, an object was hissing and hurtling through 
the air. 

“ A shell from ours ! Hurrah ! ” cried Raoul. 

I could scarcely refrain from cheering, though we our- 
selves might be the victims of the missile. 

The soldier:^ who were guarding us had flung themselves 
down behind walls and pillars, leaving us alone in the open 
street ! 

The bomb fell beyond us, and, striking the pavement, 
burst. The fragments went crashing through the side of an 
adjoining house ; and the wail that came back told how well 
the iron messengers had done their work. This was the 
second shell that had been projected from the American 
mortars. The first had been equally destructive ; and hence 
the extreme terror of both citizen and soldier. Every mis- 
sile seemed charged with death. 

Our guard now returned and dragged us onward, treating 
us with increased brutality. They were enraged at the ex- 
ultation visible in our manner ; and one, more ferocious than 
the rest, drove his bayonet into the fleshy part of my com- 
rade’s thigh. After several like acts of inhumanity, we were 
thrown into our prison and locked up as before. 

Since our capture we had tasted neither food nor drink, 
and hunger and thirst added to the misery of our situation. 


HELP FROM HEAVEN. 


221 


The insult had maddened Raoul, and the pain of his 
wound now rendered him furious. He had not hands to 
touch it or dress it. Frenzied by anger and pain to a 
strength almost superhuman, he twisted off his iron manacles 
as if they had been straws. This done, the chain that bound 
us together was soon broken, and our ankle “ jewelry ” 
followed. 

“ Let us live our last hours, captain, as we have our lives, 
free and unfettered ! ” 

I could not help admiring the spirit of my brave com- 
rade. 

We placed ourselves close to the door and listened. 

We could hear the heavy cannonade all around, and now 
and then the distant shots from the American batteries. 
We would wait for the bursting of the bombs, and, as the 
hoarse thunder £)i crumbling walls reached our ears, Raoul 
would spring up, shouting his wild, half French, half-Indian 
cries. 

A thought occurred to me. 

“ We have arms, Raoul.” I held up the fragments of the 
heavy chain that had yoked us. “ Could you reach the trap 
on a run, without the danger of mistaking your way ? ” 

Raoul started. 

“ You are right, captain — I can. It is barely possible they 
may visit us to-night. If so, any chance for life is better than 
none at all.” 

By a tacit understanding each of us took a fragment of the 
chain — there were but two — and sat down by the door to be 
ready in case our guards should open it. We sat for over an 
hour, without exchanging a word. We could hear the shells 
as they burst upon the housetops, the crashing of torn timbers 
and the rumbling of walls rolling over, struck by the heavy 
shot. We could hear the shouts of men and the wailing of 
women, with now and then a shriek louder than all 


222 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


others, as some missile carried death into the terror-struck 
crowd. 

“ Parbleu ! ” said Raoul ; “if they had only allowed us a 
couple of days, our friends would have opened these doors 
for us. Carranibo ! ” 

This last exclamation was uttered in a shriek. Simultane- 
ously a heavy object burst through the roof, tearing the bricks 
and plaster, and falling with the ring of iron on the floor. 

Then followed a deafening crash. The whole earth seemed 
to shake, and the whizzing of a thousand particles filled the 
air. A cloud of dust and lime, mixed with the smoke of sul- 
phur, was around us. I gasped for breath, nearly suf- 
focated. I endeavored to cry out, but my voice, husky and 
coarse, was scarcely audible to myself. I succeeded at length 
in ejaculating : 

“ Raoul ! Raoul ! ” • 

I heard the voice of my comrade seemingly at a great dis- 
tance. I threw out my arms and groped for him. He was 
close by me, but, like myself, choking for want of air. 

By Jove ! it was a shell,” said he in a wheezing voice. 
“ Are you hurt, captain ? ” 

“ No,” I replied ; “ and you ? ” 

“ Sound as a bell — our luck is good — it must have struck 
every other part of the cell.” 

“ Better it had not missed us,” said I, after a pause; “we 
are only spared for the garotte J 

“ I am not so sure of that, captain,” replied my companion, 
in a manner that seemed to imply he had still hopes of an 
escape. 

“ Where that shell came in,” he continued, “ something 
else may go out. Let us see — was it the roof ? ” 

“ I think so.” 

We groped our way hand in hand towards the center of the 
room, looking upwards. 


HELP FROM HEAVEN. 223 

“ Carrarnbo / ” ejaculated Raoul ; “ I can’t see a foot be- 
fore me — my eyes are filled — bah /” 

So were mine. We stood waiting. The dust was gradu- 
ally settling down, and we could perceive a faint glimmer 
from above. There was a large hole trhough the roof. 

Slowly its outlines became defined, and we could see that 
it was large enough to pass the body of a man ; but it was 
at least fourteen feet from the floor, and we had not timber 
enough to make a walking-stick ! 

“ What is to be done ? We are not cats, Raoul. We can 
never reach it ! ” 

My comrade, without making a reply, lifted me up in his 
arms, telling me to climb. I mounted upon his shoulders, 
balancing myself like a Bedouin ; but with my utmost stretch 
I could not touch the roof. 

“ Hold ! ” cried I, a thought striking me. “ Let me down, 
Raoul. Now, if they will only give us a little time.” 

“ Never fear for them ; they’ve enough to do taking care 
of their own yellow carcasses.” 

I had noticed that a beam of the roof formed one side of 
the break, and I proceeded to twist our handcuffs into a 
clamp, while Raoul peeled off his leather breeches and com- 
menced tearing them into strips. In ten minutes our “ tackle” 
was ready, and, mounting upon my comrade’s shoulders, I 
flung it carefully at the beam. It failed to catch, and I came 
down to the floor, my balance being lost in the effort. I re- 
peated the attempt. Again it failed, and I staggered down 
as before. 

“ Parbleu I cried Raoul through his teeth. The iron had 
struck him on the head.” 

“ Come, we shall try and try — our lives depend upon it.” 

The third attempt, according to popular superstition, should 
be successful. It was so with us. The clamp caught, and 
the string hung dangling downwards. Mounting again upon 


224 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


my comrade’s shoulders, I grasped the thong high up to test 
its hold. It was secure ; and, cautioning Raoul to hold fast 
lest the hook might be detached by my vibration, I climbed 
up and seized hold of the beam. By this I was enabled to 
squeeze myself through the roof. 

Once outside I crawled cautiously along the azotea, which 
like all others in Spanish houses, was flat, and bordered by 
a low parapet of mason-work. I peeped over this parapet, 
looking down into the street. It was night, and I could see 
no one below ; but up against the sky upon distant battle- 
ments I could distinguish armed soldiers busy around their 
guns. These blazed forth at intervals, throwing their sul- 
phureous glare over the city. 

I returned to assist Raoul, but, impatient of my delay, he 
had already mounted, and was dragging up the thong after 
him. 

We crawled from roof to roof, looking for a dark spot to 
descend into the street. None of the houses in the range of 
our prison were more than one story high, and, after passing 
several, we let ourselves down into a narrow alley. It was 
still early, and the people were running to and fro, amidst 
the frightful scenes of the bombardment. The shrieks of 
women were in our ears, mingled with the shouts of men, the 
groans of the wounded, and the fierce yelling of an excited 
rabble. The constant whizzing of bombs filled the air, and 
parapets were hurled down. A round-shot struck the cupola 
of a church as we passed nearly under it, and the ornaments 
of ages came tumbling down, blocking up the thoroughfare. 
We clambered over the ruins and went on. There was no 
need of our crouching^ into dark shadows. No one thought 
of observing us now. 

“ We are near the house — will you still make the attempt 
to take him along ? ” inquired Raoul, referring to the boy 
Nafcisso, 


HELP FROM HEAVEN. 


225 

“ By all means ! Show me the place,” replied I, half 
ashamed at having almost forgotten, in the midst of our own 
perils, the object of our enterprise. 

Raoul pointed to a large house with portals and a great 
door in the center. 

“ There, captain — there it is.” 

“ Go under that shadow and wait. I shall be better alone.” 

This was said in a whisper. My companion did as di- 
rected. 

I approached the great door and knocked boldly. 

“ Quien ? cried the porter within the saguan. 

“ Yo'' I responded. 

The door was opened slowly and with caution. 

“ Is the Sehorito Narcisso within,” I inquired. 

The man answered in the affirmative. 

“ Tell him a friend wishes to speak with him.” 

After a moment’s hesitation the porter dragged himself 
lazily up the stone steps. In a few seconds the boy — a fine 
bold-looking lad, whom I had seen during our trial — came 
leaping down. He started on recognizing me. 

“ Hush ! ” I whispered, making signs to him to be silent. 
“ Take leave of your friends, and meet me in ten minutes 
behind the church of La Magdalena.” 

“ Why, senor,” inquired the boy without listening, “ how 
have you got out of prison ? I have just been to the gov- 
ernor on your behalf, and ” 

“ No matter how,” I replied, interrupting him ; “ follow 
my directions — remember your mother and sisters are suffer- 
ing.” 

“ I shall come,” said the boy resolutely. 

Hasta luego ! ” (Lose no time then). “ Adios ! ” 

We parted without another word. I rejoined Raoul, and 
we walked on towards La Magdalena. We passed through 
the street where we had been captured on the preceding night, 

15 


226 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


but it was so altered that we should not have known it. Frag- 
ments of walls were thrown across the patch, and here and 
there lay masses of bricks and mortar freshly torn down. 

Neither patrol nor sentry thought of troubling us now, and 
our strange appearance did not strike the attention of the 
passengers. 

We reached the church, and Raoul descended, leaving me 
to wait for the boy. The latter was true to his word, and his 
slight figure soon appeared rounding the corner. Without 
losing a moment we all three entered the subterranean pas- 
sage, but the tide was still high, and we had to wait for the ebb. 
This came at length, and, clambering over the rocks, we en- 
tered the surf and waded as before. After an hour’s toil we 
reached Punta Hornos, and a little beyond this point I was 
enabled to hail one of our own pickets, and to pass the lines 
in safety. 

At ten o’clock I was in my own tent — just twenty-four 
hours from the time I had left it, and, with the exception of 
Clayley, not one of my brother-officers knew anything of our 
adventure. 

Clayley and I agreed to “ mount ” a party the next night 
and carry the boy to his friends. This we accordingly did, 
stealing out of camp after tattoo. It would be impossible 
to describe the rejoicing of our new acquaintances — the 
gratitude lavishly expressed — the smiles of love that thanked 
us. 

We should have repeated our visits almost nightly ; but 
from that time the guerilleros swarmed in the back-country, 
and small parties of our men, straggling from camp, were cut 
off daily. It was necessary, therefore, for my friend and my- 
self to chafe under a prudent impatience, and wait for the 
fall of Vera Cruz. 



Mexican Peccary the Terror of the Hunters. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 


A SHOT IN THE DARK. 

HE “ City of the 
True Cross ” 
fell upon the 
29th of March, 
1847, American 

flag waved over the 
castle of San Juan de 
Ulloa. The enemy’s 
troops marched out upon 
parole, most of them tak- 
ing their way to their 
distant homes upon the tablelands of the Andes. 

The American garrison entered the town, but the body of 
our army encamped upon the green plains to the south. 

Here we remained for several days, awaiting the order to 
march into the interior. 

A report had reached us that the Mexican forces, under 
the celebrated Santa Anna, were concentrating at Puente 
Nacional ; but shortly after it was ascertained that the 

227 


228 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


enemy would make his next stand in the pass of the Cerro 
Gordo, about half-way between Vera Cruz and the moun- 
tains. 

After the surrender of the city we were relieved from 
severe duty, and Clayley and I, taking advantage of 
this, resolved upon paying another stolen visit to our 
friends. 

Several parties of light horse had been sent out to scour the 
country, and it had been reported that the principal guerilla 
of the enemy had gone farther up towards the Puente 
Nacional. We did not, therefore, anticipate any danger 
from that source. 

We started after nightfall, taking with us three of our best 
men — Lincoln, Chane, and Raoul. The boy Jack was also 
of the party. We were mounted on such horses as could be 
had. The major had kept his word with me, and I bestrode 
the black — a splendid thoroughbred Arab. 

It was a clear moonlight, and as we rode along we could 
not help noticing many changes. 

War had left its black mark upon the objects around. 
The ranchos by the road were tenantless — many of them 
wrecked, not a few of them entirely gone ; where they had 
stood, a ray of black ashes marking the outline of their 
slight walls. Some were represented by a heap of half-burned 
rubbish still smoking and smoldering. 

Various pieces of household furniture lay along the path 
torn or broken — articles of little value, strewed by the wan- 
ton hand of the ruthless robber. Here a petate, or a palm hat 
— there a broken olla ; a stringless bandolon, the fragments 
of a guitar crushed under the angry heel, or some flimsy 
articles of female dress cuffed into the dust ; leaves of 
torn books — misas, or lives of the Santisima Maria — the 
labors of some zealous padre ; old paintings of the saints, 
Guadalupe, Remedios, and Dolores — of the Nino of Guatepec 


A SHOT IN THE DARK. 


229 


— rudely torn from the walls and perforated by the sacrile- 
gious bayonet, flung into the road, kicked from foot to foot 
— the dishonored penates of a conquered people. 

A painful presentiment began to harass me. Wild stories 
had lately circulated through the army — stories of the mis- 
conduct of straggling parties of our soldiers in the back- 
country. These had stolen from camp, or gone out under 
the pretext of “ beef-hunting.” 

Hitherto I had felt no apprehension, not believing that 
any small party would carry their foraging to so distant a 
point as the house of our friends. I knew that any detach- 
ment, commanded by an officer, would act in a proper 
manner; and, indeed, any respectable body of American 
soldiers, without an officer. But in all armies, in war-time, 
there are robbers, who have thrown themselves into the 
ranks for no other purpose than to take advantage of the 
license of a stolen foray. 

We were within less than a league of Don Cosmo’s rancho, 
and still the evidence of ruin and plunder continued — the 
evidence, too, of a retaliatory vengeance ; for on entering a 
glade, the mutilated body of a soldier lay across the path. 
He was upon his back, with open eyes glaring upon the 
moon. His tongue and heart were cut out, and his left arm 
had been struck off at the elbow-joint. Not ten steps be- 
yond this we passed another one, similarly disfigured. We 
were now on the neutral ground. 

As we entered the forest my forebodings became painfully 
oppressive. I imparted them to Clayley. My friend had 
been occupied with similar thoughts. 

“ It is just possible,” said he, “ that nobody has found 
the way. By heavens ! ” he added, with an earnestness un- 
usual in his manner, “ I have been far more uneasy about 
the other side — those half-brigands and that hellish villain 
Dubrosc,” 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


230 

“ On ! on ! ” I ejaculated, digging the spurs into the 
flanks of my horse, who sprang forward at a gallop. 

I could say no more. Clayley had given utterance to my 
very thoughts, and a painful feeling shot through my 
heart. 

My companions dashed after me, and we pressed through 
the trees at a reckless pace. 

We entered an opening. Raoul, who was then riding in 
the advance, suddenly checked his horse, waving on us to 
halt. We did so. 

“ What is it, Raoul ? ” I asked in a whisper. 

“ Something entered the thicket, captain.” 

At what point ? ” 

“ There, to the left ; ” and the Frenchman pointed in this 
direction. “ I did not see it well ; it might have been a 
stray animal.” 

“ I seed it, cap’n,” said Lincoln, closing up ; “ it wur 
a mustang.” 

“ Mounted, think you ? ” 

“ I ain’t confident ; I only seed its hips. We were a- 
gwine too fast to get a good sight on the critter ; but it wur 
a mustang — I seed that cl’ar as daylight.” 

I sat for a moment, hesitating. 

“ I kin tell yer whether it wur mounted, cap’n,” continued 
the hunter, “ if yer’ll let me slide down and take a squint at 
the critter’s tracks.” 

“ It is out of our way. Perhaps you had better,” I added, 
after a little reflection. “ Raoul, you and Chane dismount 
and go with the sergeant. Hold their horses. Jack.” 

“ If yer’ll not object, cap’n,” said Lincoln, addressing me 
in a whisper, “ I’d rayther go ithout kump’ny. Thar ain’t 
two men I’d like, in a tight fix, better’n Rowl and Chane ; 
but I hev done a smart chance o’ trackin’ in my time, an’ I 
allers gets along better when I’m by myself.” 


A SHOT IN THE DARK. 23 1 

“ Very well, sergeant ; as you wish it, go alone. We shall 
wait for you.” 

The hunter dismounted, and, having carefully examined 
his rifle, strode off in a direction nearly opposite to that 
where the object had been seen. 

I was about to call after him, impatient to continue our 
journey ; but, reflecting a moment, I concluded it was better 
to leave him to his “ instincts.” In five minutes he had dis- 
appeared, having entered the chapparal. 

We sat in our saddles for half an hour, not without feel- 
ings of impatience. I was beginning to fear that some 
accident had happened to our comrade, when we heard the 
faint crack of a rifle, but in a direction nearly opposite to that 
which Lincoln had taken. 

“ It’s the sergeant’s rifle, captain,” said Chane. 

“ Forward ! ” I shouted ; and we dasljed into the thicket 
in the direction whence the report came. 

We had ridden about a hundred yards through the chap- 
paral, when we met Lincoln coming up, with his rifle 
shouldered. 

“ Well ? ” I asked. 

“ ’ Twur mounted, cap’n — tain’t now.” 

“ What do you mean, sergeant ? ” 

“ That the mustang hed a yeller-belly on his back, and 
that he hain’t got ne’er a one now, as I knows on. He got 
cl’ar away from me — that is, the mustang. The yeller-belly 
didn’t.” 

“ What ! you haven’t ? ” 

“ But I hev, cap’n. I had good, soun’ reason.” 

“ What reason ? ” I demanded. 

“ In the first place, the feller wur a gurillye ; and in the 
next, he wur an outpost picket.” 

“ How know you this ? ” 

“ Wal, cap’n, I struck his trail on the edge of the thicket. 


232 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


I knowed he hedn’t kum fur, as I looked out for sign whar 
we crossed the crik bottom, an’ seed none. I tuk the back 
track, ah’ soon come up with his joblots under a big button- 
wood. He had been thar some time, for the ground wur 
stamped like a bullock-pen.” 

' “ Well ? ” said I, impatient to hear the result. 

“ I follered him up till I seed him leanin’ for’ard on his 
horse, dost to the track we oughter take. From this I sus- 
picioned him ; but, gettin’ a leetle closter, I seed his gun an’ 
fixin’s strapped to the saddle. So I tuk a sight, and whum- 
elled him. The darned mustang got away with his traps. 
This hyur’s the only thing worth takin’ from his carcage : 
it wudn’t do much harm to a grizzly b’ar.” 

“ Good heaven ! ” I exclaimed, grasping the glittering 
object which the hunter held toward me ; “ what have you 
done ? ” 

It was a silver-handled stiletto. I recognized the weapon. 
I had given it to the boy Narcisso. 

“ No harm, I reckin, cap’n ? ” 

“The man — the Mexican? How did he look? — what 
like ? ” I demanded anxiously. 

“ Like ? ” repeated the hunter. “ Why, cap’n, I ’ud call 
him as ugly a skunk as yer kin skeer up any whar — ’ceptin’ 
it mout be among the Digger Injuns, but yer kin see for 
yurself — he’s dost by.” 

I leaped from my horse, and followed Lincoln through 
the bushes. Twenty paces brought us to the object of our 
search, upon the border of a small glade. The body lay 
upon its back, where it had been flung by the rearing mus- 
tang. The moon was shining full upon the face. I stooped 
down to examine it. A single glance was sufficient. I had 
never seen the features before. They were coarse and 
swart, and the long black locks were matted and woolly. 
He was a zambo ; and, from the half-military equipments 


A SHOT IN THE DARK. 233 

that clung around his body, I saw that he had been a gueril- 
lero. Lincoln was right. 

“ Wal, cap’n,” said he, after I had concluded my exami- 
nation of the corpse, “ ain’t he a picter ? ” 

“ You think he was waiting for us ? ” 

“ For us or some other game — that’s sartin.” 

“ There’s a road branches off here to Medellin,” said 
Raoul, coming up. 

“ It could not have been for us : they had no knowledge 
of our intention to come out.” 

“ Possibly enough, captain,” remarked Clayley in a 
whisper to me. “ That villain would naturally expect us to 
return here. He will have learned all that has passed : 
Narcisso’s escape — our visits. You know he would watch 
night and day to trap either of us.” 

“ Oh, heavens ! ” I exclaimed, as the memory of this man 
came over me ; “ why did I not bring more men ? Clayley, 
we must go on now. Slowly, Raoul — slowly, and with cau- 
tion — do you hear ? ” 

The Frenchman struck into the path that led to the rancho, 
and rode silently forward. We followed in single file, Lin- 
coln keeping a look-out some paces in the rear. 




; '! 





CHAPTER XXXIII. 

CAPTURED BY GUERILLEROS. 

E emerged from the forest and entered 
the fields. All silent. No sign or 
sound of a suspicion. The house 
still standing and safe. 

“ The guerillero must have been 
waiting for some one whom he ex- 
pected by the Medellin Road. Ride 
on, Raoul ! ’ - 

“ Captain,” said the man in a whis- 
per, and halting at the end of the guardaraya. 

“ Well ? ” 

“ Some one passed out at the other end.” 

“ Some of the domestics, no doubt. You may ride on, 

and never mind ; I will take the advance myself.” 

I brushed past, and kept up the guardaraya. In a few 
minutes we had reached the lower end of the pond, where 
we halted. Here we dismounted ; and, leaving the men, 

234 



CAPTURED BY GUERILLEROS. 


235 


Clayley and I stole cautiously forward. We could see no 
one, though everything about the house looked as usual. 

“ Are they abed, think you ? ” asked Clayley. 

“ No, it is too early — perhaps below, at supper.” 

“ Heaven send I we shall be most happy to join them. I 
am as hungry as a wolf.” 

We approached the house. Still all silent. 

“ Where are the dogs ? ” 

We entered. 

“ Strange ! — no one stirring. Ha ! the furniture gone ! ” 

We passed into the porch in the rear, and approached the 
stairway. 

“ Let us go below — can you see any light ? ” 

I stooped and looked down. I could neither hear nor 
see any signs of life. I turned, and was gazing up at my 
friend in wonderment, when my ' eye was attracted by a 
strange movement upon the low branches of the olive-trees. 
The next moment a dozen forms dropped to the ground ; 
and, before we could draw sword or pistol, myself and com- 
rade were bound hand and foot and flung upon our backs. 

At the same instant we heard a scuffle down by the pond. 
Two or three shots were fired ; and a few minutes after a 
crowd of men came up, bringing with them Chane, Lincoln, 
and Raoul, as prisoners. 

We were all dragged out into the open ground in front of 
the rancho, where our horses were also brought and picketed. 

Here we lay upon our backs, a dozen guerilleros remaining 
to guard us. The others went back among the olives, where 
we could hear them laughing, talking, and yelling. We could 
see nothing of their movements, as we were tightly bound, 
and as helpless as if under the influence of nightmare. 

As we lay, Lincoln was a little in front of me. I could 
perceive that they had doubly bound him in consequence of 
the fierce resistance he had made. He had killed one of 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


236 

the guerilleros. He was banded and strapped all over, like 
a mummy, and he lay gnashing his teeth and foaming with 
fury. Raoul and the Irishman appeared to take things more 
easily, or rather more recklessly. 

“ I wonder if they are going to hang us to-night, or keep 
us till morning ? What do you think, Chane ? ” asked the 
Frenchman, laughing as he spoke. 

“ Be the crass ! they’ll lose no time — ye may depind on 
that same. There’s not an ounce av tinder mercy in their 
black hearts ; yez may swear till that, from the way this eel- 
skin cuts.” 

“ I wonder, Murt,” said Raoul, speaking from sheer reck- 
lessness, “ if St. Patrick couldn’t help us a bit. You have 
him round your neck, haven’t you ? ” 

“ Be the powers, Rowl ! though ye be only jokin’, I’ve a 
good mind to thry his holiness upon thim. I’ve got both 
him and the mother undher me jacket, av I could only rache 
thim.” 

“ Good ! ” cried the other. “ Do ! ” 

“ It’s aisy for ye to say ‘ Do,’ when I can’t budge as much 
as my little finger.” 

“ Never mind. I’ll arrange that,” answered Raoul. 
“ Hola, senor ! ” shouted he to one of the guerilleros. 

“ Quien ? ” (Who ?), said the man, approaching. 

“ listed su mismo ’ (Yourself), replied Raoul. 

“ Que cos a t ” (What is it ? ) 

“ This gentleman,” said Raoul, still speaking in Spanish, 
and nodding towards Chane, “ has a pocket full of money.” 

A hint upon that head was sufficient ; and the guerilleros, 
who, strangely enough, seemed to have overlooked this part 
of their duty, immediately commenced rifling our pockets, 
ripping them open with their long knives. They were not a 
great deal the richer for their pains, our joint purse yielding 
about twenty dollars. Upon Chane there was no money 


CAPTURED BY GUERILLEROS. 237 

found ; and the man whom Raoul had deceived repaid the 
latter by a curse and a couple of kicks. 

The saint, however, turned up, attached to the Irishman’s 
neck by a leathern string ; and along with him a small 
crucifix, and a pewter image of the Virgin Mary. 

This appeared to please the guerilleros ; and one of them, 
bending over the Irishman, slackened his fastenings a little 
— still, however, leaving him bound. 

“ Thank yer honner,” said Chane ; “ that’s dacent of ye. 
That’s what Misther O’Connell wud call amaylioration. I’m 
a hape aysier now. 

“ Mucho bueno'' said the man, nodding and laughing. 

“ Och, be my sowl, yes ! — mucho bueno. But I’d have no 
objecshun if yer honner wud make it mucho bettero. Couldn’t 
ye just take a little turn aff me wrist here ? — it cuts like a 
rayzyer.” 

I could not restrain myself from laughing, in which Clay- 
ley and Raoul joined me ; and we formed a chorus that 
seemed to astonish our captors. Lincoln alone preserved 
his sullenness. He had not spoken a word. 

Little Jack had been placed upon the ground near the 
hunter. He was but loosely tied, our captors not thinking 
it worth while to trouble themselves about so diminutive a 
subject. I had noticed him wriggling about, and using all 
his Indian craft to undo his fastenings ; b^ he appeared 
not to have succeeded, as he now lay perfectly still again. 

While the guerilleros were occupied with Chane and his 
saints, I observed the boy roll himself over and over, until 
he lay close up against the hunter. One of the guerilleros, 
noticing this, picked Jack up by the waistbelt, and, holding 
him at arm’s length, shouted out — 

'■’‘Mira camarados ! que briboncito P' (Look, comrades I 
what a little rascal !) 

Amidst the laughing of the guerilleros. Jack was swung 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


238 

out, and fell in a bed of shrubs and flowers, where we saw 
no more of him. As he was bound, we concluded that he 
could not help himself, and was lying where he had been 
thrown. 

My attention was called away from this incident by an 
exclamation from Chane. 

“ Och ! blood, turf, and murther ? If there isn’t that 
Frinch scoundhrel Dubrosc ! ” 

I looked up. The man was standing over us. 

“ Ah, Monsieur le Capitaine ! ” cried he, in a sneering 
voice, “ comment vous p 07 'tez-vous ? You came up dove-hunt- 
ing — eh ? The birds, you see, are not in the cot.” 

Had there been only a thread around my body, I could 
not have moved at that moment. I felt cold and rigid as 
marble. A thousand agonizing thoughts crowded upon me 
at once — -my doubts, my fears on her account, drowning all 
ideas of personal danger. I could have died at that mo- 
ment, and without a groan, to have ensured her safety. 

There was something so fiendish, so utterly hellish, in the 
character of this man — a polished brutality, too — that caused 
me to fear the worst. 

“ Oh, Heaven ! ” I muttered, “ in the power of such a 
man ! ” 

“ Ho ! ” cried Dubrosc, advancing a pace or two, and seizing 
my horse by the bridle, “ a splendid mount ! An Arab, as 
I live ! Look here, Yanez ! ” he continued, addressing a 
guerillero who accompanied him, “ I claim this, if you have 
no objection.” 

“ Take him,” said the other, who was evidently the leader 
of the party. 

“ Thank you. And you. Monsieur le Capitaine,” he added 
ironically, turning to me : “ thank you for this handsome 
present. He will just replace my brave mustang, for whose 
loss I expect I am indebted to you, you great cussed brute ! — 


CAPTURED BY GUERILLEROS. 


239 


The last words were addressed to Lincoln ; and, as though 
maddened by the memory of La Virgen, he approached the 
latter, and kicked him fiercely in the side. 

The wanton foot had scarcely touched his ribs, when the 
hunter sprang up, as if by galvanic action, the thongs flying 
from his body in fifty spiral fragments. With a bound he 
leaped to his rifle ; and, clutching it — he knew it was empty 
— struck the astonished Frenchman a blow upon the head. 
The latter fell heavily to the earth. In an instant a dozen 
knives and swords were aimed at the hunter’s throat. Sweep- 
ing his rifle around him, he cleared an opening, and, dashing 
past his foes with a wild yell, bounded cfi through the shrub- 
bery. The guerilleros followed, screaming with rage ; and 
we could hear an occasional shot, as they continued the pur- 
suit into the distant woods. Dubrosc was carried back into 
the rancho, apparently lifeless. 

We were still wondering how our comrade had untied 
himself when one of the guerilleros, lifting a piece of the 
thong, exclaimed : 

“ Carajo ! ?ia cartado el briboncito (The little rascal has 
cut it !) ; and the man darted into the shrubbery, in search 
of little Jack. It was with us a moment of fearful suspense. 
We expected to see poor Jack sacrificed instantly. We 
watched the man with intense emotion, as he ran to and 
fro. 

At length he threw up his arms with a gesture of surprise, 
calling out at the same time : 

For todos santos ! se fue (By all the saints! he’s 
gone !) 

“ Hurrah 1 ” cried Chane ; ‘‘ holies — such a gossoon as 
that boy I ” 

Several of the guerilleros dived into the thicket ; but their 
search was in vain. 

We were now separated, so that we could no longer con- 



240 THE RIFLE RANGERS. 

verse, and were more strictly watched, two sentries standing 
over each of us. We spent about an hour in this way. 


A Typical Scene in Spanish America. A Mexican Ranche. 
straggling parties at intervals came back from the pursuit ; 
and we could gather, from what we overhead, that neither 
Lincoln nor Jack had yet been retaken. ' 


CAPTURED BY GUERILLEROS. 


241 


We could hear talking in the rear of the rancho, and we 
felt that our fate was being determined upon. It was plain 
Dubrosc was not in command of the party. Had he been 
so, we should never have been carried beyond the olive- 
grove. It appeared we were to be hung elsewhere. 

At length a movement was visible that betokened depar- 
ture. Our horses were taken away, and saddled mules were 
led out in front of the rancho. Upon these we were set, and 
strapped tightly to the saddles. A serape was passed over 
each of us, and we were blinded by tapojos. A bugle then 
sounded the “ forward.” We could hear a confusion of 
noises, the prancing of many hoofs, and the next moment we 
felt ourselves moving along at a hurried pace through the 
woods. 



16 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 


A BLIND RIDE. 



E rode all night. The mule- 
blinds, although preventing us 
from seeing a single object, 
proved to be an advantage. 
They saved our eyes and faces from the 
thorny claws of the acacia and mezquite. 
Without hands to fend them off, these 
would have torn us badly, as we could feel them, from time to 
time, penetrating even the hard leather of the tapojos. Our 
thongs chafed us, and we suffered great pain from the mo- 
notonous motion. Our road lay through thick woods. This 
we could perceive from the constant rustle of the leaves and 
the crackling of branches, as the cavalcade passed on. 

242 


A BLIND RIDE. 


243 


Towards morning our route led over hills, steep and dif- 
ficult, we could tell from the attitudes of our animals. We 
had passed the level plains, and were entering among the 
“ foot-hills ” of the Mexican mountains. There was no pass- 
ing or repassing of one another. From this I concluded that 
we were journeying along a narrow road, and in single file. 

Raoul was directly in front of me, and we could converse 
at times. 

“ Where do you think they are taking us, Raoul ? ” I in- 
quired, speaking in French. 

“ To Cenobio’s hacienda. I hope so, at least.” 

“ Why do you hope so ? ” 

“ Because we shall stand some chance for our lives. Ceno- 
bio is a noble fellow.” 

“ You know him, then ? ” 

“ Yes, captain ; I have helped him a little in the contraband 
trade.” 

“ A smuggler, is he ? ” 

‘‘ Why, in this country, it is hardly fair to call it by so 
harsh a name, as the Government itself dips out of the same 
dish. Smuggling here, as in most other countries, should 
be looked upon rather as the offspring of necessity and mal- 
administration than as a vice in itself. Cenobio is a contra- 
bandisto, and upon a large scale.” 

“ And you are a political philosopher, Raoul ! ” 

“ Bah ! captain, it would be bad if I could not defend my 
own calling,” replied my comrade with a laugh. 

“ You think, then, that we are in the hands of Cenobio’s 
men.” 

“I am sure of it, captain. Jehosaphat! had it been 
Jarauta’s band we would have been in heaven — that is, our 
souls — and our bodies would now be embellishing some of the 
trees upon Don Cosme’s plantation. Heaven protect us from 
Jarauta 1 The robber-priest gives but short shrift to any of his 


244 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


enemies ; but if he could lay his hands on your humble serv- 
ant, you would see hanging done in double-quick time.” 

“ Why think you we are with Cenobio’s guerilla ? ” 

“ I know Yanez, whom we saw at the rancho. He is one 
of Cenobio’s officers, and the leader of this party, which is 
only a detachment. I am rather surprised that he has 
brought us away, considering that Dubrosc is with him : 
there must have been some influence in our favor which I 
cannot understand.” 

I was struck by the remark, and began to reflect upon it 
in silence. The voice of the Frenchman again fell upon my 
ear. 

“ I cannot be mistaken. No — ^this hill — it runs down to 
the San Juan River.” 

Again, after a short interval, as we felt ourselves fording 
a stream, Raoul said : 

“Yes, the San Juan — I know the stony bottom — just the 
depth, too, at this season.” 

Our mules plunged through the swift current, flinging the 
spray over our heads. We could feel the water up to the 
saddle-flaps, cold as ice ; and yet we were journeying in the 
hot tropic. But we were fording a stream fed by the snows 
of Orizava. 

“Now I am certain of the road,” continued Raoul, after 
we had crossed. “ I know this bank well. The mule 
slides. Look out, captain.” 

“For what ? ” I asked, with some anxiety. 

The Frenchman laughed as he replied : 

“ I believe I am taking leave of my senses. I called to 
you to look out, as if you had the power to help yourself in 
case the accident should occur.” 

“ What accident ! ” I inquired, with a nervous sense of 
some impending danger. 

“ Falling over ; we are on a precipice that is reckoned 


A BLIND RIDE. 


245 

dangerous on account of the clay ; if your mule should 
stumble here, the first thing you would strike would be the 
branches of some trees five hundred feet below, or there- 
about.” 

“ Good Heaven I ” I ejaculated ; “ is it so ? ” 

“ Never fear, captain ; there is not much danger. These 
mules appear to be sure-footed ; and certainly,” added he, 
with a laugh, “ their loads are well packed and tied.” 

I was in no condition just then to relish a joke, and my 
companion’s humor was completely thrown away upon me. 
The thought of my mule missing his foot and tumbling over 
a precipice, while I was stuck to him like a centaur, was 
anything else than pleasant. I had heard of such accidents, 
and the knowledge did not make the reflection any easier. 
I could not help muttering to myself : 

“ Why, in the name of mischief, did the fellow tell me this 
till we had passed it ? ” 

I crouched closer to the saddle, allowing my limbs to fol- 
low every motion of the animal, lest some counteracting 
shock might disturb our joint equilibrium. I could hear 
the torrent, as it roared and hissed far below, appearing 
directly under us ; and the “ sough ” grew fainter and fainter 
as we ascended. 

On we went, climbing up — up — up ; our strong mules 
straining against the precipitous path. It was daybreak. 
There was a faint glimmer of light under our tapojos. At 
length we could perceive a brighter beam. We felt a sud- 
den glow of heat over our bodies ; the air seemed lighter ; 
our mules walked on a horizontal path. We were on the 
ridge, and warmed by the beams of the rising sun. 

“ Thank Heaven we have passed it ! ” 

I could not help feeling thus ; and yet perhaps we were 
riding to an ignominious death ! 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

A DRINK A LA CHEVAL. 

HE guerilleros now halted and dis- 
mounted. We were left in our saddles. 
Our mules were picketed upon long 
lazos, and commenced browsing. 
They carried us under the thorny 
branches of the wild locust. The maguey, with its bill-shaped 
claws, had torn our uniform overalls to shreds. Our limbs 
were lacerated, and the cactus had lodged its poisoned 
prickles in our knees. But these were nothing to the pain 
of being compelled to keep our saddles, or rather saddle-trees 
246 



A DRINK A LA CHEVAL. 247 

— for we were upon the naked wood. Our hips ached in- 
tensely, and our limbs smarted under the chafing thong. 

There was a crackling of fires around us. Our captors 
were cooking their breakfast, and chattering gaily over their 
chocolate. Neither food nor drink was offered to us, al- 
though we were both thirsty and hungry. We were kept in 
this place for about an hour. 

“ They have joined another party here,” said Raoul, “ with 
pack-mules.” 

“ How know you ? ” I inquired. 

“ I can tell by the shouts of the arrieros. Listen ! — they 
are making ready to start.” 

There was a mingling of voices — exclamations addressed 
to their animals by the arrieros, such as : 

“ Mula ! anda / vaya ! leva?itate ! carra ! mula — mutita ! 
— anda ! — st I — st ! ” 

In the midst of this din I fancied that I heard the voice 
of a v/oman. 

“ Can it be ? ” 

The thought was too painful. 

A bugle at length sounded, and we felt ourselves again 
moving onward. 

Our road appeared to run along the naked ridge. There 
were no trees, and the heat became intense. Our serapes, 
that had served us during the night, should have been dis- 
pensed with now, had we been consulted in relation to the 
matter. I did not know, until some time after, why these 
blankets had been given to us, as they had been hitherto 
very useful in the cold. It was not from any anxiety in re- 
gard to our comfort, as I learned afterwards. 

We began to suffer from thirst, and Raoul asked one of 
the guerilleros for water. 

Carajo answered the man, “it’s no use: you’ll be 
choked by and by with something else than thirst.” 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


248 

The brutal jest called forth a peal of laughter from his 
comrades. 

About noon we commenced descending a long hill. I 
could hear the sound of water ahead. 

“ Where are we, Raoul ? ” I inquired faintly. 

“ Going down to a stream — a branch of the Antigua.” 

“ We are coming to another precipice ? ” I asked, with 
some uneasiness, as the roar of the torrent began to be 
heard more under our feet, and I snuffed the cold air rising 
from below. 

“ There is one, captain. There is a good road, though, 
and well paved.” 

“ Paved ! why, the country around is wild — is it not ? ” 

“ True ; but the road was paved by the priests.” 

“ By the priests ! ” I exclaimed with some astonishment. 

“ Yes, captain ; there’s a convent in the valley, near 
the crossing ; that is, there was one. It is now a ruin.” 

We crept slowly down, our mules at times seeming to 
walk on their heads. The hissing of the torrent gradually 
grew louder, until our ears were filled with its hoarse rushing. 

I heard Raoul below me shouting some words in a warning 
voice, when suddenly he seemed borne away, as if he had 
been tumbled over the precipice. 

I expected to feel myself next moment launched after him 
into empty space, when my mule, uttering a loud whinny, 
sprang forward and downward. 

Down — down ! the next leap into eternity ! No — she 
keeps her feet ! she gallops along a level path ! I am safe ! 

I was swung about until the thongs seemed to cut through 
my limbs ; and with a heavy plunge I felt myself carried 
thigh-deep into water. 

Here the animal suddenly halted. 

As soon as I could gain breath I shouted at the top of 
my voice for the Frenchman, 


A DRINK A LA CHEVAL. 249 

“ Here, captain ! ” he answered, close by my side, but, as 
I fancied, with a strange, gurgling voice. 

“ Are you hurt, Raoul ? ” I inquired. 

“ Hurt ? No, captain.” 

“ What was it, then ? ” 

“ Oh ! I wished to warn you, but I was too late. I 
might have known they would stampede, as the poor brutes 
have been no better treated than ourselves. Hear how 
they draw it up 1 ” 

“ Good God ! I am choking ! ” I exclaimed, listening to 
the water as it filtered through the teeth of my mule. 

“ Do as I do, captain,” said Raoul, speaking as if from 
the bottom of a well. 

“ How ? ” I asked. 

“ Bend down, and let the water run into your mouth.” 

This accounted for Raoul’s voice sounding so strangely. 

“ They may not give us a drop,” continued he. “ It is our 
only chance.” 

“ I have not even that,” I replied, after having vainly 
endeavored to reach the surface with my face. 

“ Why ? ” asked my comrade. 

“ I cannot reach it.” 

“ How deep are you ? ” 

“ To the saddle-flaps.” 

“ Ride this way, captain. It’s deeper here.” 

“ How can I ? My mule is her own master, as far as I 
am concerned.” 

“ Parbleu ! ” said the Frenchman. “ I did not think of 
that.” 

But, whether to oblige me, or moved by a desire to cool 
her flanks, the animal plunged forward into a deeper part of 
the stream. 

After straining myself to the utmost, I was enabled to 
“ duck ” my head. In this painful position I contrived to 


The rifle rangers. 


2^0 

get a couple of swallows ; but I should think I took in quite 
as much at my nose and ears. 

Clayley and Chane followed our example, the Irishman 
swearing loudly that it was a “ burnin’ shame to make a 
dacent Christyin dhrink like a horse in winkers.” 

Our guards now commenced driving our mules out of the 
water. As we were climbing the bank, someone touched 
me lightly upon the arm ; and at the same instant a voice 
whispered in my ear, “ Courage, captain ! ” 

I started — it was the voice of a female. I was about to 
reply, when a soft, small hand was thrust under the tapojo, 
and pushed something between my lips. The hand was im- 
mediately withdrawn, and I heard the voice urging a horse 
onward. 

The clatter of hoofs, as of a horse passing me in a gallop, 
convinced me that this mysterious agent was gone, and I 
remained silent. 

“ Who can it be ? Jack ? No. Jack has a soft voice — a 
small hand ; but how could he be here, and with his hands 
free ? No — no — no I -Who then ? It was certainly the 
voice of a woman — the hand, too. What other should have 
made this demonstration ? I know no other — it must — it 
must have been ” 

I continued my analysis of probabilities, always arriving 
at the same result. It was both pleasant and painful : pleas- 
ant to believe she was thus, like an angel, watching over me 
— painful to think that she might be in the power of my fiend- 
ish enemy. 

But is she so ? Lincoln’s blow may have ended him. We 
have heard nothing of him since. Would to heaven ! 

It was an impious wish, but I could not control it. 

“ What have I got between my lips ? A slip of paper I 
Why was it placed there, and not in my bosom or my button- 
hole ! Hal there is more providence in the manner of the 


A DRINK A LA CHEVAL. 


251 

act than at first thought appears. How could I have taken 
it from either the one or the other, bound as I am ? More- 
over, it may contain what would destroy the writer, if known 

to Cunning thought — for one so young and innocent, 

too — but love ” 

I pressed the paper against the tapojo, covering it with 
my lips, so as to conceal it in case the blind should be 
removed. 

“ Halted again ? ” 

“ It is the ruin, captain — the old convent of Santa Bernar- 
dina.” 

“ But why do they halt here ? 

“ Likely to noon and breakfast — that on the ridge was 
only their desayuna. The Mexicans of the tierra caliente never 
travel during midday. They will doubtless rest here until 
the cool of the evening.” 

“ I trust they will extend the same favor to us,” said Clay- 
ley : “ Heaven knows we stand in need of rest. I’d give them 
three months’ pay for an hour upon the treadmill, only to 
stretch my limbs.” 

“ They will take us down, I think — not on our account, 
but to ease the mules. Poor brutes ! they are no parties to 
this transaction.” 

Raoul’s conjecture proved correct. We were taken out of 
our saddles, and, being carefully bound as before, we were 
hauled into a damp room, and flung down upon the floor. 
Our captors went out. A heavy door closed after them, and 
we could hear the regular footfall of a sentry on the stone 
pavement without. For the first time since our capture we 
were left alone. This my comrades tested by rolling them- 
selves all over the floor of our prison to see if any one was 
present with us. It was but a scant addition to our liberty ; 
but we could converse freely, and that was something. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 


AN ODD WAY OF OPENING A LETTER. 


any of you heard of Dubrosc on the 
route ? ” I inquired of my comrades. 

No ; nothing had been heard of him since 
the escape of Lincoln. 

“ Faix, captain,” said the Irishman, “ it’s 
meself that thinks Mister Dubrosc won’t throuble 
any ov us any more. It was a purty lick that same, 
ayquil to ould Donnybrook itself.” 

“ It is not easy to kill a man with a single blow of a clubbed 
rifle,” observed Clayley — “ unless, indeed, the lock may 
have struck into his skull. But we are still living, and I think 
that is some evidence that the deserter is dead. By the way, 
252 



AN ODD WAY OF OPENING A LETTER. 253 

how has the fellow obtained such influence as he appeared to 
have among them, and so soon, too ? ” 

“ I think, lieutenant,’^ replied Raoul, “ Monsieur Dubrosc 
has been here before.” 

. “ Ha ! say you so ? ” I inquired, with a feeling of anxiety. 
‘‘ I remember, captain, some story current at Vera Cruz, 
about a creole having married or run away with a girl of 
good family there. I am almost certain Dubrosc was the 
name ; but it was before my time, and I am unacquainted 
with the circumstances. I remember, however, that the fel- 
low was a gambler, or something of the sort and the occur- 
rence made much noise in the country.” 

I listened with a sickening anxiety to every word of these 
details. There was a painful correspondence between them 
and what I already knew. The thought that this monster 
could be in any way connected with her was a disagreeable one. 
I questioned Raoul no further. Even could he have detailed 
every circumstance, I should have dreaded the relation. 

Our conversation was interrupted by the creaking of a 
rusty hinge. The door opened, and several men entered. 
Our blinds were taken off, and, oh, how pleasant to look 
upon the light ! The door had been closed again, and there 
was only one small grating, yet the slender beam through 
this was like the bright noonday sun. Two of the men 
carried earthen platters filled with frijoles, a single tortilla in 
each platter. They were placed near our heads, one for 
each of us. 

“ It’s blissid kind of yez, gentlemen,” said Chane ; “ but 
how are we goin’ to ate it, if ye plaze ? ” 

“ The plague ! ” exclaimed Clayley : ‘‘ do they expect us to 
lick this up without either hands, spoons, or knives ? ” 

“ Won’t you allow us the use of our fingers ? ” asked Raoul, 
speaking to one of the guerilleros. 

“ No,” replied the man gruffly. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


254 

“ How do you expect us to eat them ? ” 

“ With your mouths, as brutes should. What else ? ” 

“ Thank you, sir ; you are very polite.” 

“ If you don’t choose that, you can leave it alone,” added 
the Mexican, going out with his companions, and closing the 
door behind them. 

“ Thank you, gentlemen ! ” shouted the Frenchman after 
them, in a tone of subdued anger. “ I won’t please you so 
much as to leave it alone. By my word ! ” he continued, 
“ we maybe thankful — it’s more than I expected from Yahez 
— that they’ve given us any. Something’s in the wind.” So 
saying, the speaker rolled himself on his breast, bringing his 
head to the dish. 

“ Och ! the mane haythins ! ” cried Chane, following the 
example set by his comrade ; “ to make dacent men ate like 
brute bastes ! Och ! murder an’ ouns ! ” 

“ Come, captain ; shall we feed ? ” asked Clayley. 

“ Go on. Do not wait for me,” I replied. 

Now was my time to read the note. I rolled myself under 
the grating, and, after several efforts, succeeded in gaining 
my feet. The window, which was not much larger than a 
pigeon-hole, widened inwards like the embrasure of a gun-bat- 
tery. The lower slab was just the height of my chin ; and 
upon this, after a good deal of dodging and lip-jugglery, I 
succeeded in spreading out the paper to its full extent. 

“ What on earth are you at, captain ? ” inquired Clayley, 
who had watched my maneuvers with some astonishment. 

Raoul and the Irishman stopped their plate-licking and 
looked up. 

“ Hush ! go on with your dinners — not a word ! ” I read 
as follows ; 

“ To-night your cords shall be cut, and you must escape 
as you best can afterwards. Do not take the road back, as 
you will be certain to be pursued in that direction ; moreover, 


AN ODD WAY OF OPENING A LETTER. 255 

you run the risk of meeting other parties of the guerilla. 
Make for the National Road at San Juan or Manga de Clavo. 
Your posts are already advanced beyond these points. The 
Frenchman can easily guide you. Courage, captain ! Adieu ! 

“ P. S. — They waited for you. I had sent one to warn 
you : but he has either proved traitor or missed the road. 
Adieu ! adieu ! ” 

“ Good heavens ! ” I involuntarily exclaimed, “ the man 
that Lincoln ” 

I caught the paper into my lips again, and chewed it into 
a pulp, to avoid the danger of its falling into the hands of 
the guerilla. 

I remained turning over its contents in my mind. I was 
struck with the masterly style — the worldly cunning exhibited 
by the writer. There was something almost unfeminine 
about it. I could not help being surprised that one so young, 
and hitherto so secluded from the world, should possess such 
a knowledge of men and things. I was already aware of the 
presence of a powerful intellect, but one, as I thought, alto- 
gether unacquainted with practical life and action. Then 
there was the peculiarity of her situation. 

Is she a prisoner like myself ? or is she disguised, and per- 
iling her life to save mine ? or can she be Patience 1 To- 

night may unravel the mystery. 



Indian Funeral Rites. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 


THE COBRA-DI-CAPELLO. 

P to this moment my attention had been en- 
grossed with the contents of the note, and I 
had no thought of looking outward. I raised 
myself on tiptoe, stretching my neck as far 
I could into the embrasure. 

A golden sunlight was pouring down upon 
broad green leaves, where the palms grew wildly. 
Red vines hung in festoons, like curtains of scarlet 
There were bands of purple and violet — the maroon 
colored morus, and the snowy flowers of the magnolia — 
a glittering opal. Orange-trees, with white, waxlike flowers, 
were bending under their golden globes. The broad plumes 
of the corozo palm curved gracefully over, their points trailing 
downwards and without motion. 

256 




THE COBRA-DI-CAPELLO. 257 

A clump of these grew near, their naked stems laced by a 
parasite of the lliana species, which rose from the earth, and, 
traversing diagonally, was lost in the feathery frondage 
above. These formed a canopy, underneath which, from 
tree to tree, three hammocks were extended. One was 
empty ; the other two were occupied. The elliptical out- 
lines, traceable through the gauzy network of Indian grass, 
proved that the occupants were females. 

Their faces were turned from me. They lay motionless : 
they were asleep. 

As I stood gazing upon this picture, the occupant of the 
nearest hammock awoke, and turning, with a low murmur 
upon her lips, again fell asleep. Her face was now towards 
me. My heart leaped, and my whole frame quivered with 
emotion. I recognized the features of Guadalupe Rosales. 

One limb, cased in silk, had fallen over the selvage of her 
pendent couch, and hung negligently down. The small satin 
slipper had dropped oif and was lying on the ground. Her 
head rested upon a silken pillow, and a band of her long 
black hair, that had escaped from the comb straggling over 
the cords of the hammock, trailed along the grass. Her 
bosom rose with a gentle heaving above the network as she 
breathed and slept. 

My heart was full of mixed emotions — surprise, pleasure, 
love, pain. Yes, pain ; for she could thus sleep — sleep 
sweetly, tranquilly — while I, within a few paces of her couch, 
was bound and brutally treated ! 

“ Yes, she can sleep ! ” I muttered to myself, as my 
chagrin predominated in the tumult of emotions. “ Ha ! 
heavens ! ” 

My attention was attracted from the sleeper to a fearful 
object. I had noticed a spiral-like appearance upon the 
lliana. It had caught my eye once or twice while looking 
at the sleeper ; but I had not dwelt upon it, taking it for one 

17 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


258 

vine twined around another — a peculiarity often met with in 
the forests of Mexico. 

A bright sparkle now attracted my eye ; and, on looking 
at the object attentively, I discovered, to my horror, that the 
spiral protuberance upon the vine was nothing else than the 
folds of a snake 1 Squeezing himself silently down the 
parasite — for he had come from above — the reptile slowly 
uncoiled two or three of the lowermost rings, and stretched 
his glistening neck horizontally over the hammock. Now, 
for the first time, I perceived the horned protuberance on 
his head, and recognized the dreaded reptile — the macaurel 
(the cobra of America). 

In this position he remained for some moments, perfectly 
motionless, his neck proudly curved like that of a swan, • 
while his head was not twelve inches from the face of the 
sleeper. I fancied that I could see the soft down upon her 
lip playing under his breath ! 

He now commenced slowly vibrating from side to side, 
while a low hissing sound proceeded from his open jaws. 
His horns projected out, adding to the hideousness of his 
appearance ; and at intervals his forked tongue shot forth, 
glancing in the sun like a purple diamond. 

He appeared to be gloating over his victim, in the act of 
charming her to death. I even fancied that her lips moved, 
and her head began to stir backward and forward, following 
the oscillations of the reptile. 

All this I witnessed without the power to move. My soul 
as well as my body was chained ; but, even had I been free, 
I could have offered no help. I knew that the only hope of 
her safety lay in silence. Unless disturbed and angered, the 
snake might not bite ; but was he not at that moment dis- 
tilling some secret venom upon her lips ? 

“ Oh, Heaven ! ” I gasped out, in the intensity of my 
fears, “ is this the fiend himself ? She moves 1 — now he will 


THE COBRA-DI-CAPELLO. 


25Q 

strike ! Not yet — she is still again. Now — now ! — mercy ! 
she trembles ! — the hammock shakes — she is quivering under 
the fascin Ha I ” 

A shot rang from the walls — the snake suddenly jerked 
back his head — his rings flew out, and he fell to the earth, 
writhing as if in pain ! 

The girls started with a scream, and sprang simultaneously 
from their hammocks. 

Grasping each other by the hand, with terrified looks they 
rushed from the spot and disappeared. 

Several men ran up, ending the snake with their sabers. 
One of them stooped, and, examining the carcass of the dead 
reptile, exclaimed : 

“ Carai ! there is a hole in his head — he has been shot! ” 

A moment after, half a dozen of the guerilleros burst open 
the door and rushed in, crying out as they entered : 

“ Qtiiefi tira ? ” (Who fired ?) 

“ What do you mean 1 ” angrily asked Raoul, who had 
been in ill-humor ever since the guerillero had refused him 
a draught of water. 

“ I ask you who fired the shot ? ” repeated the man. 

“ Fired the shot 1 ” echoed Raoul, knowing nothing of what 
had occurred outside. “ We look like firing a shot, don’t 
we ? If I possessed that power, my gay friend, the first use 
I should make of it would be to send a bullet through that 
clumsy skull of yours.” 

“ Santissima ! ” ejaculated the Mexican, with a look of 
astonishment. “ It could not be these — they are all tied 1 ” 

And the Mexicans passed out again, leaving us to our 
reflections. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


THE HEAD-QUARTERS OF THE GUERILLA. 



INE were anything 
but agreeable. I was 
pained and puzzled. I 
was pained to think 
that she — dearer to me than life 
— was thus exposed to the dan- 
gers that surrounded us. It was 
her sister that had occupied the 
other hammock. 

“ Are they alone ? Are they 
prisoners in the hands of these 
half-robbers ? May not their hospitality to us have brought 
them under proscription ? And are they not being carried 
— father, mother, and all — before some tribunal ? Or are 
they traveling for protection with this band — protection 
against the less scrupulous robbers that infest the country ? ” 

It was not uncommon upon the Rio Grande, when rich 
260 


THE HEAD-QUARTERS OF THE GUERILLA. 261 


families journeyed from point to point, to pay for an escort 
of this sort. This may elucidate 

“ But I tell yez I did hear a crack ; and, be me sowl ! it 
was the sargint’s rifle, or I’ve lost me sinses intirely.” 

“ What is it ? ” I asked, attracted to the conversation of 
my comrades. 

“ Chane says he heard a shot, and thinks it was Lincoln’s,” 
answered Qayley. 

“ His gun has a quare sound, captain,” said the Irishman, 
appealing to me. “ It’s diffirint intirely from a Mexican 
piece, and not like our own nayther. It’s a way he has in 
loadin’ it.” 

“ Well — what of that ? ” 

“ Why, Raowl says one of them axed him who fired. Now, 
I heerd a shot, for my ear was close till the door here. It 
was beyant like ; but I cud swear upon the blissed crass it 
was ayther the sargint’s rifle or another as like it as two 
pays.” 

“ It is very strange ! ” I muttered, half in soliloquy, for 
the same thought had occurred to myself. 

I saw the boy, captain,” said Raoul — “ I saw him cross- 
ing when they opened the door.” 

“ The boy ! — what boy ? ” I asked. 

“ The same we brought out of the town.” 

“ Ha ! Narcisso ! — you saw him ? ” 

“ Yes ; and, if I’m not mistaken, the white mule that the 
old gentleman rode to camp. I think that the family is 
with the guerilla, and that accounts for our being still 
alive.” 

A new light flashed upon me. In the incidents of the last 
twenty hours I had never once thought of Narcisso. Now 
all was clear — clear as daylight. The zambo whom Lincoln 
had killed — poor victim ! — was our friend, sent to warn us 
of danger ; the dagger, Narcisso ’s — a token for us to trust 


262 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


him. The soft voice — the small hand thrust under the 
tapojo — yes, all were Narcisso’s ! 

A web of mystery was torn to shreds in a single moment. 
The truth did not yield gratification. No — but the contrary. 
I was chagrined at the indifference exhibited in another 
quarter. 

“ She must know that I am here, since her brother is master 
of the fact — here, bleeding and bound. Yet where is her 
sympathy ? She sleeps ! She journeys within a few paces 
of me, where I am tied painfully ; yet not a word of conso- 
lation. No ! She is riding upon her soft cushion, or carried 
upon a litera^ escorted, perhaps, by this accomplished villain, 
who plays the gallant cavalier upon my own barb ! They 
converse together, perhaps of the poor captives in their 
train, and with jest and ridicule — he at least ; and she can 
hear it, and then fling herself into her soft hammock and 
sleep — sleep sweetly — calmly ! ” 

These bitter reflections were interrupted. The door 
creaked once more upon its hinges. Half a dozen of our 
captors entered. Our blinds were put on, and we were 
carried out and mounted as before. 

In a few minutes a bugle rang out, and the route was 
resumed. 

We were carried up the stream bottom — a kind of glen, 
or Canada. We could feel by the cool shade and the echoes 
that we were traveling under heavy timber. The tor- 
rent roared in our ears, and the sound was not unpleasant. 
Twice or thrice we forded the stream, and sometimes left it, 
returning after having traveled a mile or so. This was to 
avoid the canons^ where there is no path by the water. We 
then ascended a long hill, and after reaching its summit 
commenced going downwards. 

“ I know this road well,” said Raoul. “ We are going 
down to the hacienda of Cenobio,” 


THE HEAD-QUARTERS OF THE GUERILLA. 263 

Pardieu he continued. “I ought to know this 
hill ? ” 

“ For what reason ? ” 

“ First, captain, because I have carried many a bulto of 
cochineal and many a bale of smuggled tobacco over it ; 
ay, and upon nights when my eyes were of as little service 
to me as they are at present.” 

“ I thought that you contrabandistas hardly needed the 
precaution of dark nights ? ” 

“ True, at times ; but there were other times when the 
Government became lynx-eyed, and then smuggling was no 
joke. We had some sharp skirmishing. Carrambo ! I have 
good cause to remember this very hill. I came near making 
a jump into purgatory from the other side of it.” 

“ Ha ! how was that ? ” 

“ Cenobio had got a large lot of cochineal from a crafty 
trader at Oaxaca. It was cacMd about two leagues from the 
hacienda in the hills, and a vessel was to drop into the 
mouth of the Medellin to take it on board. 

“ A party of us were engaged to carry it across to the 
coast ; and, as the cargo was very valuable, we were all of 
us armed to the teeth, with orders from the patrone to de- 
fend it at all hazards. His men were just the fellows who 
would obey that order, coming, as it did, from Cenobio. 

“ The Government somehow or other got wind of the 
affair, and slipped a strong detachment out of Vera Cruz 
in time to intercept us. We met them on the other side of 
this very hill, where a road strikes off towards Medellin.” 

“ Well ! and what followed ? ” 

“ Why, the battle lasted nearly an hour ; and, after having 
lost half a score of their best men, the valiant lancers rode 
back to Vera Cruz quicker than they came out of it.” 

“ And the smugglers ? ” 

“ Carried the goods safe on board. Three of them — poor 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


264 

fellows ! — are lying not far off, and I came near sharing 
their luck. I have a lance-hole through my thigh here, that 
pains me at this very moment. Oh, Moses ! ” 

My ear at this moment caught the sound of dogs barking 
hoarsely below. Horses of the cavalcade commenced 
neighing, answered by others from the adjacent fields, who 
recognized their old companions. 

“ It must be near night,” I remarked to Raoul. 

“ I think about sunset, captain,” rejoined he. “ It feels 
about that time.” 

I could not help smiling. There was something ludicrous 
in my comrade’s remark about “ feeling ” the sunset. 

The barking of the dogs now ceased, and we could hear 
voices ahead welcoming the guerilleros. 

The hoofs of our mules struck upon a hard pavement, 
and the sounds echoed as if under an arched way. 

Our animals were presently halted, and we were unpacked 
and flung rudely down upon rough stones, like so many 
bundles of merchandise. 

We lay for some minutes listening to the strange voices 
around. The neighing of horses, the barking and growling 
of dogs, the lowing of cattle, the shouts of the arrieros un- 
packing their mules, the clanking of sabers along the stone 
pavement, the tinkling of spurs, the laughter of men, and 
the voices of women — all were in our ears at once. 

Two men approached us, conversing. 

“ They are of the party that escaped us at La Virgen. 
Two of them are officers.” 

“ Chingaro I I got this at La Virgen, and a full half-mile 
off. “ Twas some black jugglery in their bullets. I hope 
the patrone will hang the Yankee savages.” 

“ Quien sabe ? ” (Who knows ?), replied the first speaker, 
“ Pinzon has been taken this morning at Puenta Moreno, 
with several others. They had a fandango with the Yankee 


THE HEAD-QUARTERS OF THE GUERILLA. 265 

dragoons. You know what the old man thinks of Pinzon. 
He’d sooner part with his wife.” 

“You think he will exchange them, then ? ” 

“ It is not unlikely.” 

“ And yet he wouldn’t trouble much if you or I had been 
taken. No — no ; he’d let us be hanged like dogs.” 

“ Well ; that’s always the way, you know.” 

“ I begin to get tired of him. By the Virgin ! Jose, I’ve 
half a mind to slip off and join the Padre.” 

“ Jarauta ? ” 

“ Yes ; he’s by the Bridge, with a brave set of Jarochos — 
some of our old comrades upon the Rio Grande among 
them. They are living at free quarters along the road, and 
having gay times of it, I hear. If Jarauta had taken these 
Yankees yesterday, the zopilote would have made his dinner 
upon them to-day.” 

“ That’s true,” rejoined the other ; “ but come — let us 
unblind the devils and give them their beans. It may be 
the last they’ll ever eat.” 

With this consoling remark, Jose commenced unbuckling 
our tapojos, and we once more looked upon the light. The 
brilliance at first dazzled us painfully, and it was some 
minutes before we could look steadily at the objects around 
us. 

We had been thrown upon the pavement in the corner of 
the patio — a large court, surrounded by massive walls and 
flat-roofed houses. 

These buildings were low, single-storied, except the range 
in front, which contained the principal dwellings. The re- 
maining three sides were occupied by stables, granaries, and 
quarters for the guerilleros and servants. A portale ex- 
tended along the front range, and large vases, with shrubs 
and flowers, ornamented the balustrade. The portale was 
screened from the sun by curtains of bright-colored clothe 


266 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


These were partially drawn, and objects of elegant furniture 
appeared within. 

Near the center of the patio was a large fountain, boiling 
up into a reservoir of hewn mason-work ; and around this 
fountain were clumps of orange-trees, their leaves in some 
places dropping down into the water. Various arms hung 
or leaned against the walls — guns, pistols, and sabers — and 
two small pieces of cannon, with their caissons and car- 
riages, stood in a prominent position. In these we recognized 
our old acquaintance of La Virgen. 

A long trough stretched across the patio, and out of this 
a double row of mules and mustangs were greedily eating 
maize. The saddle-tracks upon their steaming sides showed 
them to be the companions of our late wearisome journey. 

Huge dogs lay basking upon the hot stones, growling at 
intervals as some one galloped in through the great doorway. 
Their broad jaws and tawny hides bespoke the Spanish 
bloodhound — the descendants of that race with which Cortez 
had harried the conquered Aztecs. 

The guerilleros were seated or standing in groups around 
the fires, broiling jerked beef upon the points of their sabers. 
Some mended their saddles, or were wiping out an old car- 
bine or a clumsy escopette. Some strutted around the yard, 
swinging their bright mangas, or trailing after them the 
picturesque serape. Women in rebozos and colored skirts 
walked to and fro among the men. 

The women carried jars filled with water. They knelt 
before smooth stones, and kneaded tortillas. They stirred 
chile and chocolate in earthen olias. They cooked frijoles 
in flat pans ; and amidst all these occupations they joked 
and laughed and chatted with the men. 

Several men — officers, from their style of dress — came 
out of the portale, and, after delivering orders to the gueril- 
leros on guard, returned to the house. 


THE HEAD-QUARTERS OF THE GUERILLA. 267 

Packages of what appeared to be merchandise lay in one 
corner of the court. Around this were groups of arrieros, 
in their red leathern garments, securing their charge for the 
night, and laying out their alparejas in long rows by the 
wall. 

Over the opposite roofs — for our position was elevated — 
we could see the bright fields and forest, and far beyond, 
the Cofre de Perote and the undulating outlines of the 
Andes. Above all the white-robed peak of Orizava rose up 
against the heavens like a pyramid of spotless snow. 

The sun had gone down behind the mountains, but his 
rays still rested upon Orizava, bathing its cone with a yellow 
light, like a mantle of burnished gold. Clouds of red, and 
white, and purple hung like a glory upon his track, and, de- 
scending, rested upon the lower summits of the Cordillera. 
The peak of the “ Burning Star ” alone appeared above 
the clouds, towering in sublime and solitary grandeur. 

There was a picturesque loveliness about the scene — an 
idea of sublimity — that caused me for the moment to forget 
where I was, or that I was a captive. My dream was dis- 
pelled by the harsh voice of Jose, who at that moment came 
up with a couple of peons, carrying a large earthen dish 
that contained our supper. 

This consisted of black beans with half a dozen tortillas ; 
but as we were all half famished, we did not offer any criti- 
cism on the quality of the viands. The dish was placed in 
our midst, and our arms were untied for the first time since 
our capture. There were neither knives, forks, nor spoons ; 
but Raoul showed us the Mexican fashion of “ eating our 
spoons,” and, twisting up the tortillas, we scooped and swal- 
lowed “ right ahead.” 



Mexican Women Kneading Tortillas. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 


chane’s courtship. 


HE dish was emptied, as Clayley observed 
in a “ squirrel’s jump.” 

“ Be my sowl ! it ates purty well, black 
as it is,” said Chane, looking ruefully into 
the empty vessels. “ It’s got a worse complaint 
than the color. Cudn’t yez fetch us a thrifle 
more of it, my darlint boy ? ” he added, squinting 
up at Jose. 

“ No entiende'^ said the Mexican, shaking his head. 
“ No in tin days ! ” cried Chane, mistaking the “ no en- 
tiende ” for a phrase of broken English, to which indeed, its 
pronunciation somewhat assimilates it. “ Och I git out wid 
268 



chane’s courtship. 


269 

you ! Bad luck to yer picther ! In tin days it’s Murtagh 
Chane that’ll ayther be takin’ his tay in purgathory or atin’ 
betther than black banes in some other part of the world.” 

“ No entie7ide''‘ repeated the Mexican as before. 

“ Tin days indade ! Sure we’d be did wid hunger in half 
the time. We want the banes now.’''' 

No entmide^ senor'^ again replied the man. 

“ Go to owld Nick ! ” cried Chane, whose patience was 
now exhausted. 

“ Que quiere ? ” asked the Mexican, speaking to Raoul, 
who was by this time convulsed with laughter. 

“ Phwhat’s that he sez, Raowl ? ” inquired Chane sharply. 

“ He says he don’t understand you.” 

“ Thin spake to him yerself, Raowl. Till him we want 
more banes, and a few more ov thim pancakes, if he plazes.” 

Raoul translated the Irishman’s request. 

“ No hay,’’^ answered the Mexican, shaking his forefinger 
in front of his nose. 

“No I — is that phwhat ye say, my darlint ? Well, iv yez 
won’t go yerself, sind somebody else ; it’s all the same thing, 
so yez bring us the ateables.” 

“ No entie7ide^^ said the man, with the same shake of the 
head. 

“ Oh ! there agin with your tin days — but it’s no use ; 
yez understand me well enough, but yez don’t want to bring 
the banes.” 

“ He tells you there is no more,” said Raoul. 

“Oh! the desavin’ Judas! and five hundred ov thim 
grazers atin’ over beyant there. No more banes ! oh, the 
lie ! ” 

“ Frijoles — no hay,'"' said the Mexican, guessing at the 
purport of Chane’s remarks. 

“ Fray holeys ! ” repeated Chane, imitating the Mexican’s 
pronunciation of the word “ frijoles.” “ Och ! git out wid 


270 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


your fray holeys ! There isn’t the size of a flay of holiness 
about the place. Git out ! ” 

Raoul, and indeed all of us except the Irishman himself, 
were bursting with laughter. 

“ I’m chokin’,” said the latter, after a pause ; “ ask him 
for wather, Raowl — sure he can’t deny that, with that purty 
little sthrame boilin’ up undher our noses, as clear as the 
potteen of Ennishowen.” 

Raoul asked for water, which we all needed. Our throats 
were as dry as charcoal. The Mexican made a sign to one 
of the women, who shortly came up with an earthern jar 
filled with water. 

Give it first to the captain, misthress,” said Chane, point- 
ing to me ; “ sarve all ayqually, but respict rank.” 

The woman understood the sign, and handed me the jar. 
I drank copiously, passing it to my comrades, Clayley and 
Raoul. Chane at length took the jar ; but instead of 
drinking immediately, as might have been expected, he 
set it between his knees and looked quizzically up at the 
woman. 

“ I say, my little darlint,” said he, winking, and touching 
her lightly under the ribs with his outstretched palm, “ my 
little mooch acha — that’s what they call thim — isn’t it, 
Raowl ? ” 

“ Muchacha ? oh yes.” 

“Well thin, my purty little moX)chacha^ cudn’t yez — ye 

know what I mane. Cudn’t yez ? Och ! ye know well 

enough — only a little — jist a mouthful to take the cowld 
taste aff the wather.” 

“ No entiende^^^ said the woman, smiling good-naturedly at 
Chane’s comical gestures. 

“ Och, the plague ! there’s that tin days agin. Talk to 
her, Raowl. Tell her what I mane.” 

Raoul translated his comrade’s wishes. 


chane’s courtship. 


271 


“ Tell her, Raowl, I’ve got no money, because I have been 
rabbed, de ye see; but I’ll give her ayther of these saints 
for the smallest thrifle of agwardent ; ” and he pulled the 
images out of his jacket as he spoke. 

The woman, seeing these, bent forward with an exclama- 
tion ; and, recognizing the crucifix, with the images of the 
saint and Virgin, dropped upon her knees and kissed them 
devoutly, uttering some words in a language half Spanish, 
half Aztec. 

Rising up, she looked kindly at Chane, exclaiming, 

Bueno Cato/ico !” She then tossed the rebozo over her 
left shoulder, and hurried off across the yard. 

“ De yez think, Raowl, she’s gone after the licker ? ” 

“ I am sure of it,” answered the Frenchman. 

In a few minutes the woman returned, and drawing 
a small flask out of the folds of her rebozo, handed it to 
Chane. 

The Irishman commenced undoing the string that carried 
his “ relics.” 

“ Which ov them de yez want, misthress ? — the saint, or 
the Howly Mother, or both ? — it’s all the same to Murtagh.” 

The woman, observing what he was after, rushed forward, 
and, placing her hands upon his, said in a kind tone : 

“ JVd, sehor. Su proteccion necesita ustedP 

“ Phwhat diz she say, Raowl ? ” 

“ She says, keep them, you will need their protection 
yourself.” 

“ Och, be me sowl ! she’s not far asthray there. I need 
it bad enough now, an’ a hape ov good they’re likely to do 
me. They’ve hung there for tin years — both of thim ; and this 
nate little flask’s the first raal binifit I iver resaved from 
ayther of them. Thry it, captin. I’ll do yez good.” 

I took the bottle and drank. It was the chingarito — a 
bad species of aguardiente from the wild aloe — and hot as 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


272 

fire. A mouthful sufficed. I handed the flask to Clayley. 
who drank more freely. Raoul followed suit, and the bottle 
came back to the Irishman. 

“ Your hilth, darlint ! ” said he, nodding to the Mexican 
woman. “ May yez live till / wish ye dead ! ” 

The woman smiled, and repeated, “ No entiendey 

“ Och ! nivir mind the tin days — we won\ quarrel about 
that. Ye’re a swate crayteur,” continued he, winking at the 
woman ; “ but sure yer petticoats is mighty short, an’ yez 
want a pair of stockin’s bad, too ; but nivir mind — yez stand 
well upon thim illigant ankles — ’dade ye do ; and yez have 
a purty little futt into the bargain.” 

“ Que dice ? ” (What does he say ?), asked the Mejfican, 
speaking to Raoul. 

“ He is complimenting you on the smallness of your feet.” 
answered the Frenchman. 

The woman was evidently pleased, and commenced cramp- 
ing up what was in fact a very small foot into its faded satin 
slipper. 

“ Tell me, my dear,” continued Chane, “ are yez married ? ” 

“ Qu^ dice ? ” again asked the woman. 

“ He wants to know if you are married.” 

She smiled, waving her forefinger in front of her nose. 

Raoul informed the Irishman that this was a negative an- 
swer to his question. 

“ By my sowl, thin,” said Chane, “ I wudn’t mind marryin’ 
ye meself, an’ joinin’ the thribe — that is, if they’ll let me off 
from the bangin’. Tell her that, Raowl.” 

As desired, Raoul explained his comrade’s last speech, at 
which the woman laughed, but said nothing. 

“ Silence gives consint. But tell her, Raowl, that I won’t 
buy a pig in a poke : they must first let me off from the hang- 
in’, de ye hear ? — tell her that.” 

“ El senor estd muy alegre ” (The gentleman is very merry), 


chane’s courtship. 273 

said the woman ; and, picking up her jar, with a smile, she 
left us. 

“ I say, Raowl, does she consint ? ” 

“ She hasn’t made up her mind yet.” 

“ By the holy vistment ! thin it’s all up wid Hurt. The 
saints won’t save him. Take another dhrap, Raowl ! ” 




CHAPTER XL. 

THE DANCE OF THE TAGAROTA. 

IGHT fell, and the blazing fagots threw 
their glare over the patio, striking upon ob- 
jects picturesque at all times, but doubly so 
under the red light of the pine fires. The 
grouping of guerilleros — their broad, heavy hats, 
many of them plumed — their long black hair and 
pointed beards — their dark, flashing eyes, — their 
teeth, fierce and white — the half savage expression of their 
features — their costumes, high-colored and wild-like — all 
combined in impressing us with strange feelings. 

The mules, the mustangs, the dogs, the peons, the slip- 
pered wenches, with their coarse trailing tresses, the low 

274 





After the Fandango. A Scene from real life, in Spanish America, 


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THE DANCE OF THE TAGAROTA 


275 

roofs, the iron-barred windows, the orange-trees by the foun- 
tain, the palms hanging over the wall, the glistening cocuyos 
were all strange sights to us. 

The sounds that rang in our ears were not more familiar. 
Even the voices of the men, unlike the Saxon, sounded wild 
and sharp. It was the Spanish language, spoken in the 
patois of the Aztec Indians. In this the guerilleros chatted 
and sang, and swore. There was a medley of other sounds, 
not less strange to our ears, as the dogs howled and barked 
their blood-hound notes — as the mustangs neighed or the 
mules whinnied — as the heavy saber clanked or the huge spur 
tinkled its tiny bells — as the pohlanas^ sitting by some group, 
touched the strings of their bandolons, and chanted their half- 
Indian songs. 

By a blazing pile, close to where we sat, a party of gueril- 
leros, with their women, were dancing the tagarota, a species 
of fandango. 

The men had thrown aside their heavy hats and accouter- 
ments. Some of them had unbuttoned the legs of their cal- 
zoneros, and tucked them up to the waist, d la Bedouin. 
The women had cast off their rebozos, leaving a light 
sleeveless chemise as the only covering between their bosoms 
and the light, while their flaming petticoats were short enough 
to have suited a Parisian coryphee. 

Two men, seated upon raw-hide stools, strummed away 
upon a pair of bandolons, while a third pinched and pulled at 
the strings of an old guitar — all three aiding the music with 
their shrill, disagreeable voices. 

The dancers formed the figures of a parallelogram, each 
standing opposite his partner, or rather moving, for they 
were never at rest, but kept constantly beating time with 
feet, head, and hands. The last they struck against their 
cheeks and thighs, and at intervals clapped them together. 

One would suddenly appear as a hunchback, and, dancing 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


276 

out into the center of the figure, perform various antics to 
attract his partner. After a while she would dance up — de- 
formed also- — and the two, bringing their bodies in contact, 
and performing various disgusting contortions, would give 
place to another pair. These would appear without arms or 
legs, walking on their knees, or sliding along on their hips ! 

One danced with his head under his arm, and another with 
one leg around his neck : all eliciting more or less laughter, 
as the feat was more or less comical. During the dance 
every species of deformity was imitated and caricatured, for 
this is the tagarota. It was a series of grotesque and repul- 
sive pictures. Some of the dancers, flinging themselves flat, 
would roll across the open space without moving hand or 
foot. This always elicited applause, and we could not help 
remarking its resemblance to the gymnastics we had lately 
been practising ourselves. 

“ Och, be me sowl ! we can bate yez at that ! ” cried Chane, 
who appeared to be highly amused at the tagarota, making 
his comments as the dance went on. 

I was sick of the scene, and watched it no longer. My 
eyes turned to the portale, and I looked anxiously through 
the half-drawn curtains. 

“ It is strange I have seen nothing of the7n / Could they 
have turned off on some other route ? No — they must be 
here. Narcisso’s promise for to-night ! He at least is here. 
And she ? — perhaps occupied within — gay, happy, indifferent 
—oh ! ” 

The pain shot afresh through my heart. 

Suddenly the curtain was drawn aside, and a brilliant 
picture appeared within — brilliant, but to me like the glimpse 
which some condemned spirit might catch over the walls of 
Paradise. Officers in bright uniforms, and amongst these I 
recognized the elegant person of Dubrosc. Ladies in rich 
dresses, and amongst these . Her sister, too, was there, 


THE DANCE OF THE TAGAROTA. 277 

and the Doha Joaquina, and a half a dozen other ladies rus- 
tling in silks and blazing with jewels. 

Several of the gentlemen — young officers of the band — 
wore the picturesque costumes of the guerilleros. 

They were forming for the dance. 

“ Look, captain ! ” cried Clayley : “Don Cosme and his 
people, by the living earthquake ! ” 

“ Hush ! do not touch me — do not speak to me ! ” 

I felt as though my heart would stop beating. It rose in 
my bosom, and seemed to hang for minutes without moving. 
My throat felt dry and husky, and a cold perspiration broke 
out upon my skin. 

He approaches her — he asks her to dance — she consents ! 
No ; she refuses. Brave girl ! She has strayed away from 
the dancers, and looks over the balustrade. She is sad. 
Was it a sigh that caused her bosom to rise ? Ha ! he comes 
again. She is smiling ! — he touches her hand ! 

“ Fiend ! false woman ! ” I shouted at the top of my voice 
as I sprang up, impelled by passion. I attempted to rush 
towards them. My feet were bound, and I fell heavily upon 
my face ! 

The guards seized me, tying my hands. My comrades, 
too, were rebound. We were dragged over the stones into a 
small room in one corner of the patio. 

The door was bolted and locked, and we were left alone. 



CHAPTER XLI. 

A KISS IN THE DARK. 



r would be 
iiupossi b 1 e 
to describe 
my feelings 
as I was flung upon 
the floor of our prison. 
This was cold damp, 
and filthy ; but I heed- 
ed not these griev- 
ances. Greater sor- 
rows absorbed the 
less. There is no tor- 
ture so racking, no 
pain so painful as the 
throbbings of a jealous heart ; but how much harder to 
bear under circumstances like mine ! She could sleep, 
smile, dance — dance by my prison, and with my jailer! 

I felt spiteful— vengeful. I was stung to a desire for re- 
taliation, and along with this came an eagerness to live for 
the opportunity of indulging in this passion. 

I began to look around our prison, and see what chances 
it offered for escape. 

“ Good heavens 1 if our being transferred to the cell should 
278 


A KISS IN THE DARK. 


279 


destroy the plans of Narcisso! How is he to reach 
us ? The door is doubled-locked, and a sentry is pacing 
without.” 

After several painful efforts I raised myself upon my feet, 
propping my body against the side of the prison. There was 
an aperture — a window about as large as a loophole for mus- 
ketry. I spun myself along the wall until I stood directly 
under it. It was just the height of my chin. Cautioning my 
companions to silence, I placed my ear to the aperture and 
listened. A low sound came wailing from the fields without. 
I did not heed this. I knew it was the wolf. It rose again 
louder than before. A peculiarity in the howl struck me, 
and I turned, calling to Raoul. 

“ What is it, captain ? ” inquired he. 

“ Do you know if the prairie wolf is found here ? ” 

“ I do not know if it be the true prarie wolf, captain. 
There is one something like the coyote ^ 

I returned to the aperture and listened. 

“Again the howl of the prairie wolf — the bark! By 
heavens 1 it is Lincoln I ” 

Now it ceased for several minutes, and there came again, 
but from another direction. 

“ What is to be done ? If I answer him, it will alarm the 
sentry. I will wait until he comes closer to the wall.” 

I could tell that he was creeping nearer and nearer. 

Finding he had not been answered, the howling ceased. 
I stood listening eagerly to every sound from without. My 
comrades, who had now become apprised of Lincoln’s prox- 
imity, had risen to their feet and were leaning against the 
walls. 

We were about half an hour in this situation, without ex- 
changing a word, when a light tap was heard from without, 
and a soft voice whispered : 

“ Hola^ Capitan 


28 o 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


I placed my ear to the aperture. The whisper was re- 
peated, It was not Lincoln — that was clear. 

It must be Narcisso. 

“ Quie7i 1 ” I asked. 

“1^, Capitan." 

I recognized the voice that had addressed me in the 
morning. 

It is Narcisso. 

“ Can you place your hands in the aperture ? ” said he. 

“ No ; they are tied behind my back.” 

“ Can you bring them opposite then ? ” 

“ No ; I am standing on my toes, and my wrists are still 
far below the sill.” 

“ Are your comrades all similarly bound ? ” 

“ All.” 

“ Let one get on each side of you, and raise you up on 
their shoulders.” 

Wondering at the astuteness of the young Spaniard I 
ordered Chane and Raoul to lift me as he directed. 

When my wrists came opposite the window I cautioned 
them to hold on. Presently a soft hand touched mine, pass- 
ing all over them. Then I felt the blade of a knife pressed 
against the thong, and in an instant it leaped from my wrists. 
I ordered the men to set me down, and I listened as be- 
fore. 

f “ Here is the knife. You can release your own ankles 
' and those of your comrades. This paper will direct you 
further. You will find the lamp inside.” 

A knife, with a folded and strangely shining note, was 
passed through by the speaker. 

“ And now, capitan — one favor,” continued the voice, in a 
trembling tone. 

“ Ask it ! ask it ! ” 

“ I would kiss your hand before we part.” 


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A KISS IN THE DARK. 


281 


“ Dear noble boy ! ” thrusting my hand into the aperture. 

“ Boy ! ah, true — you think me a boy, I am no boy, capi- 
tan, but a wo7nan — o?ie who loves you with all her blighted, 
broken heart! ” 

Oh heavens ! It is, then — dearest Guadalupe ! ” 

“ Ha ! ” I thought as much. Now I will not. But, no ; 
what good would it be to me? No — no — no ! I shall keep 
my word.” 

This appeared to be uttered in soliloquy, and the tumult 
of my thoughts prevented me from noticing the strangeness 
of these expressions. I thought of them afterwards. 

“ Your hand ! your hand ! ” I ejaculated. 

“ You would kiss my hand ? Do so!” The little hand 
was thrust through, and I could see it in the dim light, 
flashing with brilliants. I caught it in mine, covering it 
with kisses. It seemed to yield to the fervid pressure of 
my lips. 

“ Oh I ” I exclaimed, in the transport of my feelings, “ let 
us not part ; let us fly together I I was wronging you, love- 
liest, dearest Guadalupe ” 

A slight exclamation, as if from some painful emotion, and 
the hand was plucked away, leaving one of the diamonds in 
my fingers. The next moment the voice whispered, with a 
strange sadness of tone, as I thought : 

“ Adieu, capitan I adieu ! In this world of life we never 
k7iow who best loves us 

I was puzzled, bewildered. I called out, but there was no 
answer. I listened until the patience of my comrades was 
well-nigh exhausted, but still there was no voice from with- 
out ; and with a strange feeling of uneasiness and wonder- 
ment I commenced cutting the thongs from my ankles. 

Having set Raoul at liberty, I handed him the knife, and 
proceeded to open the note. Inside I found acocuyo, and, 
using it as I had been already instructed, I read : 


282 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


2 he walls are adobe. You have a knife. The side with 
the loophole profits outward. T here is a field of maguey s^ and 
beyond this you will find the forest. You may then trust to 
yourselves. I can help you no further. Carrissimo cabellero 
adios ! ” 

I had no time to reflect upon the peculiarities of the note, 
though the boldness of the style struck me as corresponding 
with the other. I flung down the firefly, crushing the paper 
into my bosom ; and seizing the knife, was about to attack 
the adobe wall, when voices reached me from without. I 
sprang forward, and placed my ear to listen. It was an 
altercation — a woman — a man ! “By heaven ! it is Lin- 
coln’s voice 1 ” 

“ Yer cussed whelp ! ye’cFsee the cap’n hung would yer ? 
— a man that’s good vally for the full of a pararer of green- 
gutted greasers ; but I ain’t a-gwine to let you look at his 
bangin’. If yer don’t show me which of these hyur pigeon- 
holes is his’n, an’ help me to get him outer it. I’ll skin yer 
like a mink ! ” 

“ I tell you. Mister Lincoln,” replied a voice which I rec- 
ognized as the one whose owner had just left me, “ I have 
this minute given the captain the means of escape, through 
that loophole.” 

“ Whar ! ” 

“ This one,” answered the female voice. 

“ Wal, that’s easy to circumstantiate. Kum along hyur ! 
I ain’t a-gwine to let yer go till it’s all fixed. De ye hear ? ” 

I heard the heavy foot of the hunter as he approached, 
and presently his voice calling through the loophole in a 
guarded whisper : 

“ Cap’n ! ” 

“ Hush, Bob ! ” it’s all right,” I replied, speaking in a low 
tone, for the sentries were moving suspiciously around the 
door. 


A KISS IN THE DARK. 


283 

“ Good ! ” ejaculated he. “ Yer kin go now,” he added 
to the other, whose attention I endeavored to attract, but 
dared not call to loud enough, lest the guards should hear 
me. “ Dash my buttons ! I don’t want yer to go — yer a 
good ’un arter all. Why can’t yer kum along ? The cap’n 
’ill make it all straight agin about the disartion.” 

“ Mr. Lincoln, I cannot go with you. Please suffer me 
to depart.” 

“ Wal ! yer own likes ! but if I kin do yer a good turn, you 
can depend on Bob Linkin — mind that.” 

“ Thank you ! thank you ! ” 

And before I could interfere to prevent it, she was gone. 
I could hear the voice, sad and sweet in the distance, calling 
back, “ A^^ios / ” 

I had no time for reflection, else the mystery that sur- 
rounded me would have occupied my thoughts for hours. 
It was time to act. Again I heard Lincoln’s voice at the 
loophole. 

“ What is it ? ” I inquired. 

“ How are yer ter get out, cap’n ? ” 

“We are cutting a hole through the wall.” 

“ If yer can give me the spot, I’ll meet yer half-ways.” 

I measured the distance from the loophole, and handed 
the string to Lincoln. We heard no more from the hunter 
until the moonlight glanced through the wall upon the blade 
of his knife. Then he uttered a short ejaculation, such as 
may be heard from the “ mountain men ” at peculiar crises ; 
and after that we could hear him exclaiming : 

“ Look out, Rowl ! Hang it, man ! ye’re a-cuttin’ my 
claws ! ” 

In a few minutes the hole was large enough to pass our 
bodies ; and one by one we crawled out, and were once 
more at liberty. 



CHAPTER XLII. 


MARIA DE MERCED. 



HERE was a deep ditch 
under the wall, filled 
with cactus-plants and 
dry grass. We lay in 
the bottom of this for some min- 
utes, panting with fatigue. Our 
limbs were stiff and swollen,' and 
we could hardly stand upright. A little delay then was 
necessary, to bring back the blood and determine our future 
course. 


284 




MARIA DE MERCED. 


28s 

“We had best ter keep the gully/’ whispered Lincoln. 
“ I kum across the fields myself, but that ’ar kiver’s thin, and 
they may sight us.” 

“ The best route is the ditch,” assented Raoul : “ there 
are some windows, but they are high, and we can crawl 
under them.” 

“ Forward, then ! ” I whispered to Raoul. 

We crept down the ditch on all fours, passing several win- 
dows that were dark and shut. We reached one, the last 
in the row, where the light streamed through. Notwith- 
standing our perilous situation, I resolved to look in. There 
was an impulse upon me which I could not resist. I 
was yearning for some clue to the mystery that hung 
around me. 

The window was high up, but it was grated with heavy 
bars ; and, grasping two of these, I swung myself to its level. 
Meanwhile my comrades had crept into the magueys to 
wait for me. 

I raised my head cautiously and looked in. It was a room 
somewhat elegantly furnished, but my eye did not dwell long 
on that. A man sitting by the table engrossed my atten- 
tion. This man was Dubrosc. The light was full upon 
his face, and I gazed upon its hated lines until I felt my 
frame trembling with passion. 

I can give no idea of the hate this man had inspired 
me with. Had I possessed fire-arms, I could not have re- 
strained myself from shooting him ; and but for the iron 
grating, I should have sprung through the sash and grappled 
him with my hands. I have thought since that some provi- 
dence held me back from making a demonstration that 
would have baffled our escape. I am sure at that moment 
I possessed no restraint within myself. 

As I gazed at Dubrosc, the door of the apartment opened, 
and a young man entered. He was strangely attired, in a 


286 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


costume half military, half ranchero. There was a fineness, 
a silky richness, about the dress and manner of this youth 
that struck me. His features were dark and beautiful. 

He advanced and sat down by the table, placing his hand 
upon it. Several rings sparkled upon his fingers. I ob- 
served that he was pale, and that his hand trembled. 

After looking at him for a moment, I began to fancy I 
had seen the features before. It was not Narcisso ; him I 
should have known ; and yet there was a resemblance. 
Yes — he even resembled her I I started as this thought 
crossed me. I strained my eyes ; the resemblance grew 
stronger. 

Oh, Heaven ! could it be ? — dressed thus ? No, no ! those 
eyes — ha ! I remember ! The boy at the rendezvous — on 
board the transport — the island — the picture ! It is she — 
the cousin — Maria de Merced ! 

These recollections came with the suddenness of a single 
thought, and passed as quickly. Later memories crowded 
upon me. The adventure of the morning — the strange 
words uttered at the window of my prison — the small hand ! 
This, then, was the author of our deliverance. 

A hundred mysteries were explained in a single moment. 
The unexpected elucidation came like a shock — like a sud- 
den light. I staggered back, giving way to new and singu- 
lar emotions. 

“ Guadalupe knows nothing of my presence, then. She 
is innocent.” 

This thought alone restored me to happiness. A thou- 
sand others rushed through my brain in quick succession 
— some pleasant, others painful. 

There was an altercation of voices over my head. I caught 
the iron rods, and, resting my toes upon a high bank, swung 
my body up, and again looked into the room. Dubrosc was 
now angrily pacing over the floor. 


MARIA DE MERCED. 


287 

“ Bah ! ” he ejaculated, with a look of cold brutality ; 
“ you think to make me jealous, I believe. That isn’t pos- 
sible. I was never so, and you can’t do it. I know you 
love the cursed Yankee. I watched you in the ship — on the 
island, too. You had better keep him company where he is 
going. Ha! ha! Jealous, indeed! Your pretty cousins 
have grown up since I saw them last.” 

The insinuation sent the blood in a hot stream through 
my veins. 

It appeared to have a similar effect upon the woman ; for 
starting from her seat, she looked towards Dubrosc, her eyes 
flashing like globes of fire. 

“Yes ! ” she exclaimed ; “ and if you dare whisper your 
polluting thoughts to either of them, lawless as is this land, 
you know that I still possess the power to punish You 
are villain enough. Heaven knows, for anything ; but they 
shall not fall : one victim is enough — and such a one ! ” 

“ Victim, indeed ! ” replied the man, evidently cowed by 
the other’s threat. “You call yourself victim, Marie ? The 
wife of the handsomest man in Mexico ? Ha ! ha ! ” 

There was something of irony in the latter part of the 
speech, and the emphasis placed on the word “wife.” 

“Yes ; you may well taunt me with your false priest, you 
unfeeling wretch ! Oh^ Santisima Madre continued she, 
dropping back into her chair, and pressing her head between 
her hands. “ Beguiled — beggared — almost unsexed ! and 
yet I never loved the man ! It was not love, but madness 
— madness and fascination ! ” 

The last words were uttered in soliloquy, as though she 
regarded not the presence of her companion. 

“ I don’t care a claco,” cried he fiercely, and evidently 
piqued at her declaration — “ not one claco whether you ever 
oved me or not ! That’s not the question now, but this 
is: You must make yourself known to your Croesus of an 


288 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


uncle here, and demand that part of your fortune that he 
still clutches within his avaricious old fingers. You must do 
this to-morrow.” 

“ I will not ! ” 

“ But you shall, or ” 

The woman rose suddenly, and walked towards the door 
as if she intended to go out. 

“ No, not to-night, dearest,” said Dubrosc, grasping her 
rudely by the arm. “ I have my reasons for keeping you here. 
I noted you to-day speaking with that cursed Yankee, and 
you’re just traitor enough to help him to escape. I’ll look 
to him myself, so you may stay where you are. If you 
should choose to rise early enough to-morrow morning, you 
will have the felicity of seeing him dance upon the tight- 
rope. Ha 1 ha ! ha 1 ” 

And with a savage laugh the creole walked out of the 
room, locking the door behind him. 

A strange expression played over the features of the wo- 
man — a blending of triumph with anxiety. She ran forward 
to the window, and, pressing her small lips close to the 
glass, strained her eyes outward. 

I held the diamond in my fingers, and, stretching up 
until my band was opposite her face, I wrote the word 
“ Gracias 

At first seeing me she had started back. There was no 
time to be lost. My comrades were already chafing at my 
delay ; and, joining them, we crept through the magueys, 
parting the broad, stiff leaves with our fingers. We were 
soon upon the edge of the chapparal wood. 

I looked back towards the window. The woman stood 
holding the lamp, and its light was full upon her face. She 
had read the scrawl, and was gazing out with an expression 
I shall never forget. Another bound, and we were “ in the 
woods.” 


THE PURSUIT. 


289 


CHAPTER XLIII. 


THE PURSUIT. 



OR a time there was a 
strange irresolution in 
my flight. The idea 
of leaving Guadalupe 
in such company — that after all 
they might be prisoners, or, even 
if not, the thought that they 
were in the power of Dubrosc 
to any extent — was enough to 
render me wretched and irre- 
solute. But what could we do 
— five men, almost unarmed ? 

“ It would be madness to 
remain — madness and death. 
The woman — she possesses 
some mysterious power over this 
brute, her paramour ; she will 
guard them.” 

This thought decided me, and 

I yielded myself freely to flight. 

We had but little fear of being 

caught again. We had too much 

confidence, particularly Lincoln 

and myself, in our forest-craft. 

,, . ^ rT^ . , Raoul knew all the country, the 

Hanging Nests of the Tropical 

Weaver Birds. thickets and the passes. We 

stopped a moment to deliberate on the track we should 

take. A bugle rang out behind us, and the next instant 


^9 


290 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


the report of a cannon thundered in a thousand echoes 
along the glen. 

“ It is from the hacienda,” said Raoul ; ‘‘ they have missed 
us already.” 

“ Is that ‘ sign,’ Rowl ? ” asked Lincoln. 

“ It is,” replied the other ; “ it’s to warn their scouts. 
They’re all over these hills. We must look sharp.” 

“ I don’t like this hyur timber ; it’s too scant. Cudn’t 
yer put us in the crik bottom, Rowl ? ” 

“ There’s a heavy chapparal,” said the Frenchman, musing ; 
“ it’s ten miles off. If we could reach that we’re safe — a wolf 
can hardly crawl through it. We must make it before day.” 

“ Lead on, then, Rowl ! ” 

We stole along with cautious steps. The rustling of a 
leaf or the cracking of a dead stick might betray us ; for 
we could hear signals upon all sides, and our pursuers pass- 
ing us in small parties, within earshot. 

We bore to the right, in order to reach the creek bottom 
of which Lincoln had spoken. We soon came into this, and 
followed the stream down, but not on the bank. Lincoln 
would not hear of our taking the bank path, arguing that 
our pursuers would be “ sartin ter foller the cl’ar trail.” 

The hunter was right, for shortly after a party came down the 
stream. We could hear the clinking of their accouterments, 
and even the conversation of some of the men, as follows : 

“ But, in the first place, how did they get loose within ? 
and who cut the wall from the outside, unless some one helped 
them ? Carajo I it’s not possible.” 

“ That’s true, Jose,” said another voice. “ Some one must, 
and I believe it was that giant that got away from us at the 
rancho. The shot that killed the snake came from the chap- 
paral, and yet we searched and found nobody. Mark my 
words, it was he ; and I believe he has hung upon our track 
all the way.” 


THE PURSUIT. 


291 

Vaya /” exclaimed another ; “ I shouldn’t much like to be 
under the range of his rifle ; they say he can kill a mile off, 
and hit wherever he pleases. He shot the snake right 
through the eyes.” 

“ By the Virgin ! ” said one of the guerilleros, laughing, 

‘ he must have been a snake of good taste to be caught toy- 
ing around that dainty daughter of the old Spaniard ! It 
reminds me of what the Book tells about Mother Eva and 
the old serpent. Now, if the Yankee’s bullet ” 

We could hear no more, as the voices died away in the 
distance and under the sound of the water. 

“ Ay,” muttered Lincoln, finishing the sentence ; “ if the 
Yankee’s bullet hadn’t been needed for the varmint, some o’ 
yer wudn’t a’ been waggin’ yer clappers as ye air.” 

“ It was you, then ? ” I asked, turning to the hunter. 

“ ’Twur, cap’n ; but for the cussed catawampus, I ’ud ’a 
gin Mister Dubrosc his ticket. I hed a’most sighted him 
when I seed the flash o’ the thing’s eye, an’ I knowed it 
wur a-gwine to strike the gal.” 

“ And Jack? ” I inquired, now for the first time thinking 
of the boy. 

“ I guess he’s safe enuf, cap’n. I sent the little feller 
back with word ter the kurnel.” 

“ Ha ! then we may expect them from camp ? ” 

“No doubt on it, cap’n ; but yer see, if they kum, they 
may not be able to toiler us beyond the rancho. So it’ll be 
best for us not to depend on them, but ter take Rowl’s track.” , 

“ You are right. Lead on, Raoul ! ” 

After a painful journey we reached the thicket of which 
Raoul had spoken ; and dragging ourselves into it, we came 
to a small opening, covered with long dry grass. Upon this 
luxurious couch we resolved to make a bivouac. We were 
all worn down by the fatigues of the day and night preced- 
ing, and, throwing ourselves upon the grass, in a few minutes 
were asleep. 



Indian Chivalry in Mexico : Her Lord and Master. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 


A NEW AND TERRIBLE ENEMY. 

T was daylight when I awoke — broad day- 
light. My companions, all but Clayley, were 
already astir, and had kindled a fire with a 
species of wood known to Raoul, that pro- 
duced hardly any smoke. They were preparing 
vgr breakfast. On a limb close by hung the hideous, 
human-like carcass of an iguana, still writhing. 
Raoul was whetting a knife to skin it, while Lin- 
coln was at some distance, carefully reloading his rifle. 
The Irishman lay upon the grass, peeling bananas and 
roasting them over the fire. 

292 



A NEW AND TERRIBLE ENEMY. 293 

The iguana was soon skinned and broiled, and we all of 
us commenced eating with good appetites. 

“ Be Saint Pathrick ! ” said Chane, “ this bates frog-atin’ 
all hollow. It’s little meself dhramed, on the Owld Sod, 
bearin’ of thim niggers in furrin parts, that I’d be turning 
kannybawl meself some day ! ” 

“ Don’t you like it, Murtagh ? ” asked Raoul jocosely. 

“ Och ! indade, yes ; it’s betther than an empty brid- 
basket ; but if yez could only taste a small thrifle ov a 
Wicklow ham this mornin,’ an’ a smilin’ pratie, instid of this 
brown soap, yez ” 

“ Hisht ! ” said Lincoln, starting suddenly, and holding 
the bite half-way to his mouth. 

“ What is it ? ” I asked. 

“ I’ll tell yer in a minit, cap’n.” 

The hunter waved his hand to injoin silence, and, striding 
to the edge of the glade, fell flat to the ground. We knew 
he was listening, and waited for the result. We had not 
long to wait, for he had scarce brought his ear in contact 
with the earth when he sprang suddenly up again, ex- 
claiming^ 

“ Houii^s trailin^ us, by the Eternal Heavens I '' 

It was seldom that Lincoln uttered an oath, and when he 
did there was something awful in his manner. He wore a 
despairing look, too, unusual to the bold character of his 
features. This, with the appalling statement, acted on us 
like a galvanic shock, and by one impulse we leaped from 
the fire, and threw ourselves flat upon the grass. 

Not a word was spoken as we strained our ears to listen. 

At first we could distinguish a low moaning - sound, like 
the hum of a wild bee ; it seemed to come out of the earth. 
After a little it grew louder and sharper ; then it ended in a 
yelp and ceased altogether. After a short interval it began 
afresh, this time still clearer ; then came the yelp, loud,, sharp, 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


294 

and vengeful. There was no mistaking that sound. It was 
the bark of the Spanish bloodhound. 

We sprang up simultaneously, looking around for weapons, 
and then staring at each other with an expression of despair. 

The rifle and two case-knives were all the weapons we had. 

“ What’s to be done ? ” cried one, and all eyes were turned 
upon Lincoln. 

The hunter stood motionless, clutching his rifle and look- 
ing to the ground. 

“ How fur’s the crik, Rowl ? ” he asked after a pause. 

“ Not two hundred yards ; this way it lies.” 

“ I kin see no other chance, cap’n, than ter take the water : 
we may bamfoozle the houn’s a bit, if thar’s good wadin’.” 

“ Nor I.” I had thought of the same plan. 

“ If we hed hed bowies, we mouter fit the dogs whar we 
air, but yer see we hain’t ; an’ I kin tell by thar growl thar 
ain’t less nor a dozen on ’em.” 

“ It’s no use to remain here ; lead us to the creek, Raoul ; ” 
and, following the Frenchman, we dashed recklessly through 
the thicket. 

On reaching the stream we plunged in. It was one of 
those mountain torrents common in Mexico — spots of still 
water alternating with cascades, that dash and foam over 
shapeless masses of amygdaloidal basalt. We waded through 
the first pool, and then, clambering among the rocks, entered 
a second. This was a good stretch, a hundred yards or 
more of still, crystal water, in which we were waist-deep. 

We took the bank at the lower, and on the same side, and, 
striking back into the timber, kept on parallel to the course 
of the stream. We did not go far away from the water, lest 
we might be pushed again to repeat the ruse. 

All this time the yelping of the bloodhounds had been 
ringing in our ears. Suddenly it ceased. 

“ They have reached the water,” said Clayley, 


A NEW AND TERRIBLE ENEMY. 295 

“ No,” rejoined Lincoln, stopping a moment to listen : 
“ they’re chawin’ the bones of the varmint.” 

“ There again ! cried one, as their deep voices rang down 
the glen in the chorus of the whole pack. The next minute 
the dogs were mute a second time, speaking" at intervals in 
a fierce growl that told us they were at fault. 

Beyond an occasional bark we heard nothing of the blood- 
hounds until we had gained at least two miles down the 
stream. We began to think we had baffled them in earnest, 
when Lincoln, who had kept in the rear, was seen to throw 
himself flat upon the grass. We all stopped, looking at him 
with breathless anxiety. It was but a minute. Rising up 
with a reckless air, he struck his rifle fiercely upon the 
ground, exclaiming : 

“ Hades swamp them cussed houn’s ! they’re arter us agin ! ” 

By one impulse we all rushed back to the creek, and, 
scrambling over the rocks, plunged into the water and com- 
menced wading down. 

A sudden exclamation burst from Raoul in the advance. 
We soon learnt the cause, and to our dismay. We had 
struck the water at a point where the stream canoned. 

On each side rose a frowning precipice, straight as a wall. 
Between these the black torrent rushed through a channel 
only a few feet in width so swiftly that, had we attempted to 
descend by swimming, we should have been dashed to death 
against the rocks below. 

To reach the stream farther down it would be necessary 
to make a circuit of miles ; and the hounds would be on our 
heels before we could gain three hundred yards. 

We looked at each other and at Lincoln, all panting and 
pale. 

“ Stumped at last I ” cried the hunter, gritting his teeth 
with fury. 

No 1 ” I shouted, a thought at that moment flashing 


296 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


upon me. “ Follow me, comrades 1 We’ll fight the blood- 
hounds upon the cliff.” 

I pointed upward. A yell from Lincoln announced his 
approval. 

“ Hooray ! ” he cried, leaping on the bank ; “ that idee’s 
jest like yer, cap Hooray ! Now, boys, for the bluff ! ” 

Next moment we were straining up the gorge that led to 
the precipice ; and the next we had reached the highest 
point, where the cliff, by a bold projection, butted over the 
stream. There was a level platform covered with tufted 
grass, and upon this we took our stand. 





Indian Weapons. 



A BATTLE WITH BLOODHOUNDS. 


perate struggle. I could not 
help looking over the precipice. 


CHAPTER XLV. 


E stood for some mo- 
ments gathering 
breath and nerving 


ourselves for the des- 


It was a fearful sight. Below, 
in a vertical line two hundred 
feet below, the stream rushing 
through the canon broke upon 
a bed of sharp, jagged rocks, 
and then glided on in seething 


snow-white foam. There was no object between the eye 
and the water ; no jutting ledge, not even a tree, to break 
the fall— nothing but the spiky boulders below, and the 
foaming torrent that washed them. 

It was some minutes before our unnatural enemies made 
their appearance, but every howl sounded nearer and nearer. 
Our trail was warm, and we knew they were scenting it on 
a run. At length the bushes crackled, and we could see 
their white breasts gleaming through the leaves. A few 
more springs, and the foremost bloodhound bounded out 


297 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


298 

upon the bank, and, throwing up his broad jaw, uttered a 
hideous “ growl.” 

He was at fault where we had entered the water. His 
comrades now dashed out of the thicket, and, joining in a 
chorus of disappointment, scattered among the stones. 

An old dog, scarred and cunning, kept along the bank 
until he had reached the top of the canon. This was where 
we had made our crossing. Here the hound entered the 
channel, and, springing from rock to rock, reached the point 
where we had dragged ourselves out of the water. A short 
yelp announced to his comrades that he had lifted the scent, 
and they all threw up their noses and came galloping down. 

There was a swift current between two large boulders of 
basalt. We had leaped this. The old dog reached it, and 
stood straining upon the spring, when Lincoln fired, and the 
hound, with a short “ wough,” dropped in upon his head 
and was carried off like a flash. 

“ Counts one less to pitch over,” said the hunter, hastily 
reloading his rifle. 

Without appearing to notice the strange conduct of their 
leader, the others crossed in a string, and, striking the warm 
trail, came yelling up the pass. It was a grassy slope, such 
as is often seen between two tables of a cliff ; and as the 
dogs strained upward we could see their white fangs and the 
red blood that had baited them clotted along their jaws. 
Another crack from Lincoln’s rifle, and the foremost hound 
tumbled back down the gorge. 

“ Two rubbed out ! ” cried the hunter, and at the same 
moment I saw him fling his rifle to the ground. 

The hounds kept the trail no longer. Their quarry was. 
before them ; their holding ended, and they sprang upon us 
with the silence of the assassin. The next moment we were 
mingled together, dogs and men, in the fearful struggle of 
life and death ! 


A BATTLE WITH BLOODHOUNDS. 299 

I know not how long this strange encounter lasted. I felt 
myself grappling with the tawny monsters and hurling them 
over the cliff. Now they sprang at my throat, and I threw 
out my arms, thrusting them fearlessly between the shining 
rows of teeth. Then I was free again, and, seizing a leg, 
or a tail, or the loose flaps of the neck, I dragged a savage 
brute towards the brink, and, summoning all my strength, 
dashed him against its brow, and saw him tumble howling 
over. 

Once I lost my balance and nearly staggered over the 
precipice, and at length, panting, bleeding, and exhausted, I 
fell to the earth. I could struggle no longer. 

I looked around for my comrades. Clayley and Raoul 
had sunk upon the grass, and lay torn and bleeding. Lincoln 
and Chane, holding a hound between them, were balancing 
him over the bluff. 

“ Now, Murter,” cried the hunter, “ giv’ him a good heist, 
and see if we kin pitch him cPar on t’other side ; hee-woop ! 
— hoo I ” 

And with this ejaculation the kicking animal was launched 
into the air. I could not resist looking after. The yellow 
body bounded from the face of the opposite cliff, and fell 
with a heavy plash upon the water below. 

He was the last of the pack ! 




Sioux Indians, in Wolf Skins, Hunting Buffalo. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 

AN INDIAN RUSE. 

WILD shout now drew our atten- 
tion, and, looking up the creek, we 
saw our pursuers just debouching 
from the woods. They were all 
mounted, and pressing their mus- 
tangs down to the bank, where they 
halted with a strange cry. 

“ What is that, Raoul ? Can you tell the meaning of that 
cry?” 

“ They are disappointed, captain. They must dismount 
and foot it like ourselves ; there is no crossing for horses.” 

“ Good. Oh, if we had but a rifle each ! This pass ” 

I looked down the gorge. We could have defended it against 
the whole party, but we were unarmed. 

The guerilleros now dismounted, tying their horses to the 
trees and preparing to cross over. One, who seemed to be 
their leader, judging from his brilliant dress and plumes, 
had already advanced into the stream, and stood upon a 
300 




AN INDIAN RUSE. 


301 


projecting rock with his sword drawn. He was not more 
than three hundred yards from the position we occupied on 
the bluff. 

“ Do you think you can reach him ? ” I said to Lincoln, 
who had reloaded his gun, and stood eying the Mexican, 
apparently calculating the distance. 

“ I’m feerd, cap’n, he’s too -fur. I’d guv a half-year’s 
sodger-pay for a crack out o’ the major’s Dutch gun. We 
can lose nothin’ in tryin’. Murter, will yer stan’ afore me ? 
Thar ain’t no kiver, an’ the feller’s watchin’. He’ll dodge 
like a duck if he sees me takin’ sight on ’im.” 

Chane threw his large body in front, and Lincoln, cau- 
tiously slipping his rifle over his comrade’s shoulder, sighted 
the Mexican. 

The latter had noticed the maneuver, and, perceiving the 
danger he had thrust himself into, was about turning to leap 
down from the rock when the rifle cracked — his plumed hat 
flew off, and, throwing out his arms, he fell with a dead 
plunge upon the water ! The next moment his body was 
sucked into the current, and, followed by his hat and plumes, 
was borne down the canon with the velocity of lightning. 

Several of his comrades uttered a ciy of terror ; and those 
who had followed him out into the open channel ran back 
towards the bank, and screened themselves behind the rocks. 
A voice, louder than the rest, was heard exclaiming : 

Carajo ! guardaos ! — esta el rifle del dtablo!'' (Look 
out ! it is the devil’s rifle ! ) 

It was doubtless the comrade of Josd, who had been in 
the skirmish of La Virgen, and had felt the bullet of the 
zundnadel. 

The guerilleros, awed by the death of their leader — for it 
was Yanez who had fallen — crouched behind the rocks. 
Even those who had remained with the horses, six hundred 
yards off, sheltered themselves behind trees and projections 


302 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


of the bank. The party nearest us kept loading and firing 
their escopettes. Their bullets flattened upon the face of 
the cliff or whistled over our heads. Clayley, Chane, Raoul, 
and myself, being unarmed, had thrown ourselves behind 
the scarp to avoid catching a stray shot. Not so Lincoln, 
who stood boldly out on the highest point of the bluff, as if 
disdaining to dodge their bullets. 

I never saw a man so completely soaring above the fear 
of death. There was a sublimity about him that I remember 
being struck with at the time ; and I remember, too, feeling 
the inferiority of my own courage. It was a stupendous 
picture, as he stood like a colossus clutching his deadly 
weapon, and looking over his long brown beard at the skulk- 
ing and cowardly foe. He stood without a motion — without 
even winking — although the leaden hail hurtled past his 
head, and cut the grass at his feet with that peculiar “ zip- 
zip ” so well remembered by the soldier who has passed the 
ordeal of a battle. 

There was something in it awfully grand — awful even to 
us : no wonder that it awed our enemies. 

I was about to call upon Lincoln to fall back and shelter 
himself, when I saw him throw up his rifle to the level. The 
next instant he dropped the butt to the ground with a gesture 
of disappointment. A moment after the maneuver was re- 
peated with a similar result, and I could hear the hunter 
gritting his teeth. 

“The cowardly skunks ! ” mattered he ; “ they keep a- 
gwine like a bull’s tail in fly-time.” 

In fact, every time Lincoln brought his piece to a level 
the guerilleros "ducked, until not a head could be seen. 

“ They ain’t as good as thar own dogs,” continued the 
hunter, turning away from the cliff. “ If we hed a lot of 
loose rocks, cap’n, we mout keep them down thar till dooms- 
day.” 


AN INDIAN RUSE. 


303 


A movement was now visible among the guerilleros. 
About one-half of the party were seen to mount their horses 
and gallop off up the creek. 

“ They’re gone round by the ford,” said Raoul : “ it’s not 
over a mile and a half. They can cross with their horses 
there and will be on us in half an hour.” 
y What was to be done ? There was no timber to hide us 
now — no chapparal. The country behind the cliff was a 
sloping table, with here and there a stunted palm-tree or a 
bunch of “Spanish bayonet” {yucca afigusti/olid) . This 
would be no shelter, for from the point we occupied, the 
most elevated on the ridge, we could have descried an object 
of human size five miles off. At that distance from us the 
woods began ; but could we reach them before our pursuers 
would overtake us ? 

Had the guerilleros all gone off by the ford we should 
have returned to the creek bottom, but a party remained 
below, and we were cut off from our former hiding-place. 
We must therefore strike for the woods. 

But it was necessary first to decoy the party below, other- 
wise they would be after us before the others, and experi- 
ence had taught us that these Mexicans could run like 
hares. 

This was accomplished by an old Indian trick that both 
Lincoln and myself had practised before. It would not have 
“ fooled ” a Texan Ranger, but it succeeded handsomely 
with the guerilleros. 

We first threw ourselves on the ground in such a position 
that only our heads could be seen by the enemy, who still 
kept blazing away from their escopettes. After a short while 
our faces gradually sank behind the crest of the ridge, until 
nothing but our forage caps appeared above the sward. We 
lay thus for some moments, showing a face or two at in- 
tervals. Our time was precious, and we could not perform 


304 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


the pantomime to perfection ; but we were not dealing with 
Comanches, and for “ Don Diego ” it was sufficiently artis- 
tical. 

Presently we slipped our heads one by one out of their 
covers, leaving the five caps upon the grass inclining to each 
other in the most natural positions. We then stole back 
lizard-fashion, and, after sprawling a hundred yards or so, 
rose to our feet and ran like scared dogs. We could tell 
that we had duped the party below, as we heard them firing 
away at our empty caps long after we had left the scene of 
our late adventure. 



Heathenish Rites Among the Indians. 



Group of Ancient Indian Mummies, Once Prominent Citizens, now 
in Retired Life. 


CHAPTER XLVII. 

A COUP d’^CLAIR. 



ANY an uneasy look was thrown 
over our shoulders as we strug- 
gled down that slope. Our 
strength was urged to its ut- 
most ; and this was not much, for we had 
all lost blood in our encounter with the 
sleuth-hounds, and felt weak and faint. 
We were baffled, too, by a storm — a fierce tropical storm. 
The rain, thick and heavy, plashed in our faces, and made 


20 


305 




THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


306 

the ground slippery under our feet. The lightning flashed 
in our eyes, and the electric sulphur shortened our breathing. 
Still we coughed and panted and staggered onward, nerved 
by the knowledge that death was behind us. 

I shall never forget that fearful race. I thought it would 
never end. I can only liken it to one of those dreams in 
which we are always making endeavors to escape from 
some horrible monster, and are as often hindered by a strange 
and mysterious helplessness. I remember it now as then. 
I have often repeated that flight in my sleep, and always 
awoke with a feeling of shuddering horror. 

We had got within five hundred yards of the timber. 
Five hundred yards is not much to a fresh runner ; but to 
us, toiling along at a trot that much more resembled a walk, 
it seemed an infinity. A small prairie, with a stream beyond, 
separated us from the edge of the woods, — a smooth sward 
without a single tree. We had entered upon it — Raoul, who 
was light of foot, being in the advance, while Lincoln from 
choice hung in the rear. 

An exclamation from the hunter caused us to look back. 
We were too much fatigued and worn out to be frightened at 
the sight. Along the crest of the hill a hundred horsemen 
were dashing after us in full gallop, and the next moment 
their vengeful screams were ringing in our ears. 

“ Now, do yer best, boys ! ” cried Lincoln, “ an’ I’ll stop 
the cavortin’ of that ’ere foremost feller afore he gits much 
furrer.” 

We trailed our bodies on, but we could hear the gueril- 
leros fast closing upon us. The bullets from their escopettes 
whistled in our ears, and cut the grass around our feet. I 
saw Raoul, who had reached the timber, turn suddenly 
round and walk back. He had resolved to share our fate. 

“ Save yourself, Raoul ! ” I called with my weak voice, 
but he could not have heard me above the din. 


A COUP d’eclair. 


307 

I saw him still walking towards us. I heard the screams 
behind ; I heard the shots, and the whizzing of bullets, and 
the fierce shouts. 

I heard the clatter of hoofs, and the rasping of sabers as 
they leaped out of their iron sheaths ; and among these I 
heard the crack of Lincoln’s rifle, and the wild yell of the 
hunter. Then a peal of thunder drowned all other sounds : 
the heavens one moment seemed on fire, then black — black. 
I felt the stifling smell of sulphur — a hot flash— a quick 
stroke from some invisible hand — and I sank senseless to 
the earth ! 

* # * * . * * 

Something cool in my throat and over my face brought 
back the consciousness that I lived. It was water. 

I opened my eyes, but it was some moments before I 
could see that Raoul was bending over me, and laving my 
temples with water from his boot. I muttered some half- 
coherent inquiries. 

“ It was a co2ip d'klair, captain,” said Raoul. 

Good heavens ! We had been struck by lightning ! Raoul, 
being in the advance, had escaped. 

The Frenchman soon left me and went to Clayley, who, 
with Chane and the hunter, lay close by — all three, as I 
thought, dead. They were pale as corpses, with here and 
there a spot of purple, or a livid line traced over their skins, 
while their lips presented the whitish, bloodless hue of death. 

“ Are they dead ? ” I asked feebly. 

“ I think not — we shall see ; ” and the Frenchman poured 
same water into Clayley’s mouth. 

The latter sighed heavily, and appeared to revive. 

Raoul passed on to the hunter, who, as soon as he felt the 
water, started to his feet, and, clutching his comrade fiercely 
by the throat, exclaimed : 

“ Yur cussed catamount ! yer wud hang me, wud yur ? ” 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


308 

Seeing who it was, he stopped suddenly, and looked 
round with an air of extreme bewilderment. His eye now 
fell upon the rifle, and, all at once seeming to recollect him- 
self, he staggered towards it and picked it up. Then, as if 
by instinct, he passed his hand into his pouch and coolly 
commenced loading. 

While Raoul was busy with Clayley and the Irishman, I 
had risen to my feet and looked back over the prairie. The 
rain was falling in torrents, and the lightning still flashed at 
intervals. At the distance of fifty paces a black mass was 
lying upon the ground motionless — a mass of men and horses, 
mingled together as they had fallen in their tracks. Here 
and there a single horse and his rider lay prostrate together. 
Beyond these, twenty or thirty horsemen were galloping in 
circles over the plain, and vainly endeavoring to head their 
frightened steeds towards the point where we were. These, 
like Raoul, had escaped the stroke. 

“ Come ! ” cried the Frenchman, who had now resuscitated 
Clayley and Chane ; “ we have not a moment to lose. The 
mustangs will get over their fright, and these fellows will be 
down upon us.” 

His advice was instantly followed, and before the gueril- 
leros could manage their scared horses we had entered the 
thicket, and were crawling along under the wet leaves. 




CHAPTER XLVIII. 




An Araguato. 


A BRIDGE OF MONKEYS. 

AOUL thought 
that their su- 
perstition 
might prevent 
the enemy from pursuing 
us farther. They would 
consider the lightning as 
an interference from 
above — a stroke of the 
brezos de Dios. But we 
had little confidence in 
this, and notwithstanding 


our exhaustion, toiled on through the chapparal. Wearied 


with over-exertion, half famished — for we had only com- 
menced eating when roused from our repast in the morning 
wet to the skin, cut by the bushes, and bitten by the 
poisoned teeth of the bloodhounds — blinded, and bruised, 
and bleeding, we were in but poor traveling condition. 

Even Lincoln, whose buoyancy had hitherto borne up, 
appeared cowed and broken. For the first mile or two he 
seemed vexed at something and “ out of sorts,” stopping 
every now and again, and examining his rifle in a kind of be- 
wilderment. 


309 



THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


310 

Feeling that he was once more “ in the timber,” he began 
to come to himself. 

“ Thet sort o’ an enemy’s new ter me,” he said, speaking 
to Raoul. “ Dog-gone the thing ! it makes the airth look 
yeller ! ” 

“ You’ll see better by-and-by,” replied his comrade. 

“ I had need ter Rowl, or I’ll butt my brainpan again one of 
these hyur saplin’s. Wagh ! I cudn’t sight a b’ar, if we were 
to scare him up jest now.” 

About five miles farther on we reached a small stream. 
The storm had abated, but the stream was swollen with the 
rain, and we could not cross it. We were now a safe distance 
from our pursuers — at least we thought so — and we resolved 
to “ pitch our camp ” upon the bank. 

This was a simple operation, and consisted in pitching 
ourselves to the ground under the shade of a spreading 
tree. 

Raoul, who was a tireless spirit, kindled a fire, and com- 
menced knocking down the nuts of the corozo palm, that 
hung in clusters over our heads. We dried our wet gar- 
ments, and Lincoln set about dressing our numerous wounds. 
In this surgical process our shirts suffered severely ; but 
the skill of the hunter soothed our swelling limbs, and 
after a frugal dinner upon palm -nuts and pitahayas we 
stretched ourselves along the greensward, and were soon 
asleep. 

I was in that dreamy state, half sleeping^ half waking, 
when I was roused by a strange noise that sounded like a 
multitude of voices — the voices of children. Raising my 
head, I perceived the hunter in an attitude of listening. 

“ What is it, Bob ? ” I inquired. 

“ Dod rot me if I kin tell, cap’n ! Hyur, Rowl ! what’s 
all this hyur channerin’ ? ” 

“ It’s the araguatoes” muttered the Frenchman, half 
asleep. 


A BRIDGE OF MONKEYS. 31I 

“ Harry-gwaters ! an’ what i’ the name o’ Nick’s them ? 
Talk plain lingo, Rowl. What are they ?” 

“ Monkeys, then,” replied the latter, waking up, and 
laughing at his companion. 

“ Thar’s a good grist on ’em, then, I reckin,” said Lin- 
coln, throwing himself back unconcernedly. 

“ They are coming towards the stream. They will most 
likely cross by the rocks yonder,” observed Raoul. 

“ How ? — swim it ? ” I asked. “ It is a torrent there.” 

“Oh no!” answered the Frenchman; “ monkeys would 
rather go into fire than water. If they cannot leap the 
stream they’ll bridge it.” 

“ Bridge it ! and how .? ” 

“ Stop a moment, captain ; you shall see.” 

The half-human voices now sounded nearer, and we could 
perceive that the animals were approaching the spot where 
we lay. Presently they appeared upon the opposite bank, 
headed by an old gray-bearded chieftain, and officered like a 
regiment of soldiers. 

They were, as Raoul had stated, the araguatoes (simia 
ursina) of the tribe of “ a/ouattes” or “ howlersT They 
were of that species known 2 ls^^ monos colorados'^ (red mon- 
keys). They were about the size of foxhounds, though there 
was a difference in this respect between the males and fe- 
males. Many of the latter were mothers, and carried their 
human-like infants upon their shoulders as they marched 
along, or, squatted upon their hams, tenderly caressed them, 
fondling and pressing them against their mcemmce. Both 
males and females were of a tawny-red or lion-color ; both 
had long beards, and the hair upon their bodies was coarse 
and shaggy. Their tails were, each of them, three feet in 
length ; and the absence of hair on the underside of these, 
with the hard, callous appearance of the cuticle, showed that 
these appendages were extremely prehensible. In fact, this 
was apparent from the manner in which the young “held 


312 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


on ” to their mothers ; for they appeared to retain their dif- 
ficult seats as much by the grasp of their tails as by their 
arms and hands. 

On reaching the bank of the “ arroyo ” the whole troop 
came to a sudden halt. One — an aide-de-camp^ or chief 

pioneer, perhaps — ran forward upon a projecting rock ; and, 
after looking across the stream, as if calculating its width, 
and then carefully examining the trees overhead, he scam- 
pered back to the troop, and appeared to communicate with 
the leader. The latter uttered a cry — evidently a command 
— which was answered by many individuals in the band, and 
these instantly made their appearance in front, and, running 
forward upon the bank of the stream, collected around the 
trunk of a tall cotton-wood that grew over the narrowest 
part of the arroyo. After uttering a chorus of discordant 
cries, twenty or thirty of them were seen to scamper up the 
trunk of the cotton-wood. On reaching a high point, the 
foremost — a strong fellow — ran out upon a limb, and, taking 
several turns of his tail around it, slipped off, and hung head 
downwards. The next on the limb — also a stout one — 
climbed down the body of the first, and, whipping his tail 
tightly around the neck and fore-arm of the latter dropped 
off in his turn, and hung head down. The third repeated 
this maneuver upon the second, and the fourth upon the 
third, and so on, until the last one upon the string rested 
his fore-paws upon the ground, 
f The living chain now commenced swinging backwards and 
\ forwards, like the pendulum of a clock. The motion was 
slight at first, but gradually increased, the lowermost mon- 
key striking his hands violently on the earth as he passed 
the tangent of the oscillating curve. Several others upon 
the limbs above aided the movement. The absence of 
branches upon the lower part of the tree, which we have said 
was a cotton-wood {populus angulate), enabled them to exe- 
cute this movement freely. 


A BRIDGE OF MONKEYS. 


313 


The oscillation continued to increase until the monkey at 
the end of the chain was thrown among the branches of a 
tree on the opposite bank. Here, after two or three vibra- 
tions, he clutched a limb and held fast. This movement 
was executed adroitly, just at the culminating point of the 
“ swing,” in order to save the intermediate links from the 
violence of a too sudden jerk. 

The chain was now fast at both ends, forming a complete 
suspension-bridge, over which the whole troop, to the num- 
ber of four or five hundred, passed with the rapidity of 
thought. 

It was one of the most comical sights I ever beheld, to 
witness the quizzical expression of countenances along that 
living chain. To see the mothers, too, making the passage, 
with their tiny infants clinging to their backs, was a sight at 
once comical and curious. 

d'he monkeys that formed the chain kept up an incessant 
talking, and, as we fancied, laughing^ and frequently they 
would bite at the legs of the individuals passing over, as if 
to hurry them on ! 

The troop was soon on the other side ; but how were the 
animals forming the bridge to get themselves over ? This 
was the question that suggested itself. Manifestly, thought 
we, by number one letting go his tail. But then the point 
d'ai)pui on the other side was much lower down, and number 
one, with half a dozen of his neighbors, would be dashed 
against the opposite bank, or soused into the water. 

Here, then, was a problem, and we waited with some 
curiosity for its solution. 

It was soon solved. A monkey was now seen attaching 
his tail to the lowest on the bridge ; another girdled him in 
a similar manner, and another, and so on until a dozen more 
were added to the string. These last were all powerful fel- 
lows ; and, running up to a high limb, they lifted the bridge 
into a position almost horizontal. 


314 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


Then a scream from the last monkey of the new formation 
warned the tail end ih2ii all was ready ; and the next moment 
the whole chain was swung over, and landed safely on the 
opposite bank ! 

The lowermost links now dropped off to the ground, while 
the higher ones leaped to the branches and came down by 
the trunk. The whole troop then scampered off into the 
chapparal and disappeared. 

“ Aw, be the powers of Moll Kelly ! iv thim little cray- 
teurs hasn’t more sinse than the humans av these parts - 
It’s a quare counthry, anyhow. Be me sowl ! it bates Bana- 
gher intirely ! ” 

A general laugh followed the Irishman’s remarks ; and 
we all sprang to our feet, refreshed by our sleep, and lighter 
in spirits. 

The storm had disappeared, and the sun, now setting, 
gleamed in upon us through the broad leaves of the palms. 
The birds were abroad once more — brilliant creatures — 
uttering their sweet songs. Parrots, and trogons, and 
tanagers flashed around our heads; and the great-billed 
and silly-looking toucans sat silent in the branches above. 

The stream had become fordable, and leaving our “ lair,” 
we crossed over, and struck into the woods on the opposite 
side. 




CHAPTER XLIX. 

THE JARACHOS. 

E headed towards the National Bridge. 
Raoul had a friend half-way on the 
route — an old comrade upon whom 
he could depend. His rancho was in 
a secluded spot, near the road that 
leads to the rinconada of San Martin. 
We should find refreshment there ; 
and, if not a bed, “at least” said 
Raoul, “ a roof and a petate ” We 
should not be likely to meet any one, 
as it was ten miles off, and it would be late when we 
reached it. 

It was late — near midnight — when we dropped in upon 
the contrabandista, for such was the friend of Raoul ; but 
he and his family were still astir, under the light of a very 
dull wax candle. 

315 



THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


316 

Josd Antonio — that was his name — was a little “ sprung ” 
at the five bareheaded apparitions that burst so suddenly 
upon him ; but, recognizing Raoul, we were cordially 
welcomed. 

Our host was a spare, bony old fellow, in leathern jacket 
and calzoneros, with a keen, shrewd eye, that took in our 
situation at a single glance, and saved the Frenchman a 
great deal of explanation. Notwithstanding the cordiality 
with which his friend received him, I noticed that Raoul 
seemed uneasy about something as he' glanced around the 
room : for the rancho, a small cane structure, had only one. 

There were two women stirring about — the wife of the 
contrabandista, and his daughter, a plump, good-looking 
girl of eighteen or thereabout. 

“ ^0 han cenado^ Caballeros (You have not supped, gentle- 
men ?), inquired, or rather affirmed, Josd Antonio, for our 
looks had answered the question before it was asked. 

JVi comma — ni almorzado (Nor dined — nor breakfast,) 

replied Raoul with a grin. 

“ Carambo I Rafaela ! Jesusita I ” shouted our host, with a 
sign, such as, among the Mexicans, often conveys a whole 
chapter of intelligence. The effect was magical. It sent 
Jesusita (Little Jesus) to her knees before the tortilla stones ; 
and Rafaela, Jose’s wife, seized a string of tassajo, and 
plunged it into the olla. Then the little palm-leaf fan was 
handled, and the charcoal blazed and crackled, and the 
beef boiled, and the black beans simmered, and the choco- 
late frothed up, and we all felt happy under the prospect 
of a savory supper. 

I had noticed that, notwithstanding all this, Raoul seemed 
uneasy. In the corner I discovered the cause of his soli- 
citude, in the shape of a small spare man, wearing the 
shovel-hat and black capote of a priest. I knew that my 
comrade was not partial to priests, and that he would sooner 
have trusted Satan himself than one of the tribe ; and I at- 


THE JARACHOS. 317 

tributed his uneasiness to this natural dislike for the clerical 
fraternity. 

“ Who is he, Antone ? ” I heard him whisper to the con- 
trabandista. 

“ The cure of San Martin,” was the reply. 

“ He is new, then ? ” said Raoul. 

Ho7nbre de bien ” (a good man), answered the Mexican, 
nodding as he spoke. 

Raoul seemed satisfied and remained silent. 

1 could not help noticing the hombre de bieit ” myself ; 
and no more could I help fancying, after a short observation, 
that the rancho was indebted for the honor of his presence 
more to the black eyes of Jesusita than to any zeal on his 
part regarding the spiritual welfare of the contrabandista or 
his family. 

There was a villainous expression upon his lips as he watched 
the girl moving over the floor ; and once or twice I caught 
him scowling upon Chane, who, in his usual Irish way, was 
^‘blarneying” with Jesusita, and helping her to fan the 
charcoal. 

“Where’s the padre? ” whispered Raoul to our host. 

“ He was in the rinconada this morning.” 

“ In the rinconada ! ” exclaimed the Frenchman, starting. 

“ They’re gone down to the Bridge. The band has had a 
fandango with your people and lost some men. They say 
they have killed a good many stragglers along the road.” 

“ So he was in the rinconada, you say ? and this morning, 
too ? ” inquired Raoul, in a half-soliloquy, and without 
heeding the last remarks of the contrabandista. 

“We’ve got to look sharp, then,” he added, after a pause. 

“ There’s no danger,” replied the other, “ if you keep 
from the road. Your people have already reached El Plan, 
and are preparing to attack the Pass of the Cerro. '‘El 
CojW they say, has twenty thousand men to defend it.” 

During this dialogue, which was carried on in whispers, 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


318 

I had noticed the little padre shifting about uneasily on his 
seat. At its conclusion he rose up, and, bidding our host 
“ buenas noches^' was about to withdraw, when Lincoln, who 
had been quietly eyeing him for some time with that sharp, 
searching look peculiar to men of his kidney, jumped up, and, 
placing himself before the door, exclaimed in a drawling, em- 
phatic tone : 

No, yer don't ! " 

Qut cosaV (What’s the matter?), asked the padre 
indignantly. 

“ Kay or no kay — cosser or no cosser — yer don’t go out 
o’ hyur afore we do. Rowl, ax yur friend for a piece o’ 
twine, will yer ? ” 

The padre appealed to our host, and he in turn appealed 
to Raoul. The Mexican was in a dilemma. He dared not 
offend the curd, and on the other hand he did not wish to 
dictate to his old comrade Raoul. Moreover, the fierce 
hunter, who stood like a huge giant in the door, had a voice 
in the matter ; and therefore Josd Antonio had three minds 
to consult at one time. 

“ It ain’t Bob Linkin id infringe the rules of hospitality,” 
said the hunter ; “ but this hyur’s a peculiar case, an’ I 
don’t like the look of that ’ar priest, nohow yer kin fix it.” 

Raoul, however, sided with the contrabandista, and ex- 
plained to Lincoln that the padre was the peaceable cure of 
the neighboring village, and the friend of Don Antonio ; 
and the hunter, seeing that I did not interpose — for at the 
moment I was in one of those moods of abstraction, and 
scarcely noticed what was going on — permitted the priest 
to pass out. I was recalled to myself more by some peculiar 
expressions which I heard Lincoln muttering after it was 
over than by the incidents of the scene itself. 

The occurrence had rendered us all somewhat uneasy ; and 
we resolved upon swallowing our supper hastily, and, after 
pushing forward some distance, to sleep in the v/oods. 


THE JARACHOS. 


319 

The tortillas were by this time ready, and the pretty 
Jesusita was pouring out the chocolate ; so we set to work 
like men who had appetites. 

The supper was soon despatched, but our host had some 
puros in the house — a luxury we had not enjoyed lately ; 
and hating to hurry away from such comfortable quarters, 
we determined to stay and take a smoke. 

We had hardly lit our cigars when Jesusita, who had gone 
to the door, came hastily back, exclaiming : 

Papa— papa I hay gente fuera /” (Papa, there are people 
outside !) 

As we sprang to our feet several shadows appeared through 
the open walls. Lincoln seized his rifle and ran to the door. 
The next moment he rushed back, shouting out : 

“ By thunder ! I told you so ! ” And, dashing his huge 
body against the back of the rancho, he broke through the 
cane pickets with a crash. 

We were hastening to follow him when the frail structure 
gave way ; and we found ourselves buried, along with our 
host and his women, under a heavy thatch of saplings and 
palm-leaves. 

We heard the crack of our comrade’s rifle without — the 
scream of a victim — the reports of pistols and escopettes — 
the yelling of savage men ; and then the roof was raised again, 
and we were pulled out and dragged down among the trees, 
and tied to their trunks and taunted and goaded, and kicked 
and cuffed, by the most villainous-looking set of despera- 
does it has ever been my misfortune to fall among. They 
seemed to take delight in abusing us — yelling all the while 
like so many demons let loose from the prison of 
ififiernos." 

Our late acquaintance — the cure — was among them ; 
and it was plain that he had brought the party on us. His 
“ reverence ” looked high and low for Lincoln ; but, to his 
great mortification, the hunter had escaped. 


How the Spanish Civilized America. From an old Spanish Engraving. 


CHAPTER L. 


PADRE JARAUTA. 

E were not long in learning into whose hands 
we had fallen ; for the name “ Jarauta ” was 
on every tongue. They were the dreaded 
'‘'‘Jarochos ” of the bandit priest. 

“ We’re in for it now,” said Raoul, deeply 
mortified at the part he had taken in the affair 
with the curd. “ It’s a w^onder they have kept us 
SO long. Perhaps not here himself, and they’re 
waiting for him.” 

As Raoul said this the clatter of hoofs sounded along the 
narrow road ; and a horseman came galloping up to the 
rancho, riding over everything and everybody with a perfect 
recklessness. 

320 



PADRE JARAUTA. 


321 


“ That’s Jarauta,” whispered Raoul. “If he sees me — 
but it don’t matter much,” he added, in a lower tone : “we’ll 
have a quick shrift all the same : he can’t more than hafig — 
and that he’ll be sure to do.” 

“ W’here are these Yankees.?” cried Jarauta, leaping out 
of his saddle. 

“ Here, captain,” answered one of the Jarochos, a hideous- 
icoking griffe, dressed in a scarlet uniform, and apparently 
ihe lieutenant of the band. 

“ How many .? ” 

“ Four, captain.” 

“ Very well — what are you waiting for ?” 

“To know whether I shall hang or shoot them.” 

“ Shoot them, by all means! Carambo I we have no time 
for neck-stretching I ” 

“ There are some nice trees here, captain,” suggested 
another of the band, with as much coolness as if he had 
been conversing about the hanging of so many dogs. He 
wished — a curiosity not uncommon — to witness the spectacle 
of hanging. 

Madre de Dios I stupid I I tell you we haven’t time for 
such silly sport. Out with you there I Sanchez ! Gabrieli 
Carlos ! send your bullets through their Saxon skulls ! Quick ! ” 

Several of the Jarochos commenced unslinging their car- 
bines, while those who guarded us fell back, to be out of 
range of the lead. 

“Come,” exclaimed Raoul, “it can’t be worse than this — 
we can only die; and I’ll let the padre know whom he has 
got before I take leave of him. I’ll give him a souvenir 
won’t make him sleep any sounder to-night. Oyez^ Padre 
/arauta I continued he, calling out in a tone of irony ; 
“ have you found Marguerita yet?” 

We could see between us and the dim rushlight that the 
Jarocho started, as if a shot had passed through his heart. 

“ Hold!” he shouted to the men, who were about taking 
21 


322 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


aim ; “ drag those scoundrels hither ! A light there ! — fire 
the thatch ! Vaya ! ” 

In a moment the hut of the contrabandista was in flames, 
the dry palm-leaves blazing up like flax. 

“ Merciful Heaven ! they are going to roast us I ” 

With this horrible apprehension, we were dragged up 
towards the burning pile, close to which stood our fierce 
judge and executioner. 

The bamboos blazed and crackled, and under their red 
glare we could now see our captors with a terrible distinct- 
ness. A more demon-like set, I think, could not have been 
found anywhere out of the infernal regions. 

Most of them were zamboes and mestizoes, and not a few 
pure Africans of the blackest hue, maroons from Cuba and 
the Antilles, many of them with their fronts and cheeks 
tattooed, adding to the natural ferocity of their features. 
Their coarse woolly hair sticking out in matted tufts, their 
white teeth set in savage grins, their strange armor and 
grotesque attitudes, their wild and picturesque attire, formed 
a coup deceit that might have pleased a painter in his studio, 
but which at the time had no charm for us. 

There were Pintoes among them, too — spotted men from 
the tangled forests of Acapulco — pied and speckled with 
blotches of red, and black, and white, like hounds and 
horses. They were the first of this race I had ever seen, 
and their unnatural complexions, even at that fearful mo- 
ment, impressed me with feelings of disgust and loathing. 

A single glance at this motley crew would have con- 
vinced us, had we not been quite sure of it already, that we 
had no favor to expect. There was not a countenance 
among them that exhibited the slightest trait of grace or 
mercy. No such expression could be seen around us, and 
we felt satisfied that our time had come. 

The appearance of their leader did not shake this con- 
viction. Revenge and hatred were playing upon his sharp 


PADRE JARAUTA. 


323 

sallow features, and his thin lips quivered with an expression 
of malice, plainly habitual. His nose, like a parrot’s beak, had 
been broken by a blow, which added to its sinister shape ; 
and his small black eyes twinkled with metallic brightness. 

He wore a purplish-colored manga, that covered his 
whole body, and his feet were cased in the red leather boots 
of the country, with heavy silver spurs strapped over them. 
A black sombrero, with its band of gold bullion and tags of 
the same material, completed the tout ensemble of his costume. 
He wore neither beard nor mustache ; but his hair, black 
and snaky, hung down trailing over the velvet embroidery 
of his manga. 

Such was the Padre Jarauta. 

Raoul’s face was before him, upon which he looked for 
some moments without speaking. His features twitched as 
if under galvanic action, and we could see that his fingers 
jerked in a similar manner. 

They were painful memories that could produce this 
effect upon a heart of such iron devilry, and Raoul alone 
knew them. The latter seemed to enjoy the interlude ; for 
he lay upon the ground, looking up at the Jarocho with a 
smile of triumph upon his reckless features. 

We were expecting the next speech of the padre to be an 
order for flinging us into the fire, which now burned fiercely. 
Fortunately, this fancy did not seem to strike him just then. 

“ Ha, monsieur ! ” exclaimed he at length, approaching 
Raoul. “ I dreamt that you and I would meet again ; I 
dreamt it — ha ! ha ! ha ! — it was a pleasant dream, but not 
half so pleasant as the reality — ha ! ha ! ha ! Don’t you think 
so ? ” he added, striking our comrade over the face with a 
mule quirt. “ Don’t you think so ? ” he repeated, lashing him 
as before, while his eyes sparkled with a fiendish malignity. 

“ Did you dream of meeting Marguerita again?” inquired 
Raoul, with a satirical laugh, that sounded strange, even 
fearful, under the circumstances. 


3^4 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


I shall never forget the expression of the Jarocho at that 
moment. His sallow face turned black, his lips white, his 
eyes burned like a demon’s, and, springing forward with a 
fierce oath, he planted his iron-shod heel upon the face of 
our comrade. The skin peeled off, and the blood followed. 

There was something so cowardly — so redolent of a brutal 
ferocity- — in the act, that I could not remain quiet. With a 
desperate wrench I freed my hands, skinning my wrists in 
the effort, and, flinging myself upon him, I clutched at the 
monster’s throat. 

He stepped back ; my ankles were tied, and I fell upon 
my face at his feet. 

“ Ho ! ho ! ” cried he, “ what have we here ? An officer, 
eh ? Come ! ” he continued, “ rise up from your prayers 
and let me look at you. Ha ! a captain ? And this ? — a 
lieutenant! Gentlemen, you’re too dainty to be shot like 
common dogs ; we’ll not let the wolves have you ; we’ll put 
you out of their reach ; ha I ha ! ha ! Out of reach of 
wolves, do you hear ? And what’s this ? continued he, turn- 
ing to Chane and examining his shoulders. “ Bah ! sol- 
dado raso — Irlandes^ carajo •' ” (A common soldier — an 
Irishman, too I ) “What you do fighting among these 
heretics against your own religion ? There, renegade ! ” 
and he kicked the Irishman in the ribs. 

“ Thank yer honner ! ” said Charie, with a grunt, “ small 
fayvors thankfully received ; much good may it do yer 
honner ? ” 

“ Here, Lopez ! ” shouted the brigand. 

“ Now for the fire ! ” thought we. 

“Lopez, I say!” continued he, calling louder. 

Aca, aca!^’ answered a voice, and the griffe who had 
guarded us came up, swinging his scarlet manga. 

“ Lopez, these I perceive are gentlemen of rank, and we 
must usher them into Hades a little more gracefully, do you 
hear .? ” 


PADRE JARAUTA. 325 

^‘Yes, captain,” answered the other, with stoical com- 
posure. 

“ Over the cliffs, Lopez. Facilis descensus Averni — but 
you don’t understand Latin, Lopez. Over the cliffs, do 
you hear? You understand that? ” 

“ Yes, captain,” repeated the Jarocho, moving only his 
lips. 

“You will have them at the Eagle’s Cave by six in the 
morning ; by six, do you hear ? ” 

“ Yes, captain,” again replied the subordinate. 

“ And if any of them is missing — is missing, do you hear ? ” 

“Yes, captain.” 

“ You will take his place in the dance — the dance — ha ! 
ha ! ha I You understand that, Lopez ? ” 

“ Yes, captain.” 

“ Enough then, good Lopez — handsome Lopez ! beautiful 
Lopez ! — enough, and good-night to you ! ” 

So saying, the Jarocho drew his quirt several times across 
the red cheek of Raoul, and with a curse upon his lips he 
leaped upon his mustang and galloped off. 

Whatever might be the nature of the punishment that 
awaited us at the Eagle’s Cave, it was evident that Lopez 
had no intention of becoming proxy in it for any of us. 
This was plain from the manner in which he set about secur- 
ing us. We were first gagged with bayonet-shanks and then 
dragged out into the bushes. 

Here we were thrown upon our backs, each of us in the 
center of four trees that formed a parallelogram. Our arms 
and legs were stretched to their full extent, and tied severally 
to the trees ; and thus we lay, spread out like raw hides to 
dry. Our savage captors drew the cords so taut that our 
joints cracked under the cruel tension. In this painful po- 
sition, with a Jarocho standing over each of us, we passed 
the remainder of the night 



CHAPTER LI. 


A HANG BY THE HEELS. 



T was a long night 
— the longest I 
can remember 
— a night that 
fully illustrated the horror 
of monotony. I can com- 
pare our feelings to those 
of one under the influence 
of the nightmare. But, no 
— worse than that. Our 
savage sentries occasion- 
ally sat down upon our 
bodies, and, lighting their cigarritos, chatted gaily while 
we groaned. We could not protest ; we were gagged. But 
it would have made little difference ; they would only have 
mocked us the more. 

We lay glaring upon the moon as she coursed through a 
326 


A HANG BY THE HEELS. 


327 

cloudy heaven. The wind whistled through the leaves, and 
its melancholy moaning sounded like our death-dirge. 
Several times through the night I heard the howl of the 
prairie wolf, and I knew it was Lincoln; but the Jarochos 
had pickets all around, and the hunter dared not approach 
our position. He could not have helped us. 

The morning broke at last ; and we were taken up, tied 
upon the backs of vicious mules, and hurried off through 
the woods. We traveled for some distance along a ridge, 
until we had reached its highest point, where the cliff beetled 
over. Here we were unpacked and thrown upon the grass. 
About thirty of the Jarochos guarded us, and we now saw 
them under the broad light of day ; but they did not look a 
whit more beautiful than they had appeared under the glare 
of the blazing rancho on the preceding night. 

Lopez was at their head, and never relaxed his vigilance 
for a moment. It was plain that he considered the padre a 
man of his word. 

After we had remained about half an hour on the brow of 
the cliff, an exclamation from one of the men drew our at- 
tention ; and, looking round, we perceived a band of horsemen 
straggling up the hill at a slow- gallop. It was Jarauta, with 
about fifty of his followers. They were soon close up to us. 

“ Bue7ios dias, Caballeros ! ” cried their leader, in a mocking 
tone, leaping down and approaching us. “ I hope you passed 
the night comfortably. Lopez, I am sure, provided you with 
good beds. Didn’t you, Lopez ? ” 

“ Yes, captain,” answered the laconic Lopez. 

“ The gentlemen rested well ; didn’t they, Lopez ? ” 

“Yes, captain.” 

“ No kicking or tumbling about, eh ? ” 

“ No, captain.” 

“ Oh ! then they rested well ; it’s a good thing : they have 
a long journey before them — haven’t they, Lopez ? ” 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


328 

“Yes, captain.*’ 

“ I hope, gentlemen, you are ready for the road. Do you 
think you are ready ? ” 

As each of us had the shank of a bayonet between his 
teeth, besides being tied neck and heels, it is not likely that 
this interrogatory received a reply ; nor did his “ reverence ” 
expect any, as he continued putting similar questions in 
quick succession, appealing occasionally to his lieutenant 
for an answer. The latter, who v/as of the taciturn school, 
contented himself, and his superior too, with a simple “ yes ” 
or “ no.” 

Up to this moment we had no knowledge of the fate that 
awaited us. We knew we had to die — that we knew ; but 
in what way we were still ignorant. I, for one, had made up 
my mind that the padre intended pitching us over the cliffs. 

We were at length enlightened upon this important point. 
We were not to take that awful leap into eternity which I had 
been picturing to myself. A fate more horrible still awaited 
us. We were to be hanged over the precipice ! 

As if to aid the monster in his inhuman design, several 
pine-trees grew out horizontally from the edge of the cliff ; 
and over the branches of these the Jarochos commenced 
reeving their long lazos. Expert in the handling of ropes, 
as all Mexicans are, they were not long in completing their 
preparations, and we soon beheld our gallows. 

“ According to rank, Lopez,” cried Jarauta, seeing that all 
was ready : “ the captain first — do you hear ? ” 

“Yes, captain,” answered the imperturbable brigand w'ho 
superintended the operations. 

“ I shall keep you to the last, monsieur,” said the priest, 
addressing Raoul : “ you will have the pleasure of bringing 
up the rear in your passage through purgatory. Ha 1 ha ( 
ha 1 Won’t he, Lopez ? ” 

“ Yes, captain-,” 


A HANG BY THE HEELS. 


329 


“ Maybe some of you would like a priest, gentlemen.” 
This Jarauta uttered with an ironical grin that was revolting 
to behold. “ If you would,” he continued, “ say so. I some- 
times officiate in that capacity myself. Don’t I, Lopez ? ” 

“ Yes, captain.” 

A diabolical laugh burst from the Jarochos, who had dis- 



A Mexican Lasso Braided with Strands of Rawhide. 


mounted, and were standing out upon the cliff, the better to 
witness the spectacle of our hanging. 

“ Well, Lopez, does any of them say ‘ yes ’ ? ” 

“ No, captain.” 

“ Ask the Irishman there ; ask him — he ought to be a 
good Catholic.” 

The question was put to Chane, in mockery, of course, 
for it was impossible for him to answer it ; and yet he did 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


330 

answer it, for his look spoke a curse as plainly as if it had 
been uttered through a trumpet. The Jarochos did not heed 
that, but only laughed the louder. 

“ Well, Lopez, what says St. Patrick ? ‘ Yes ’ or ‘ no ’ ? ” 

“ ‘ No,’ captain.” 

And -a fresh peal of ruffian laughter rang out. 

The rope was now placed around my neck in a running 
noose. The other end had been passed over the tree, and 
lay coiled near the edge of the cliff. Lopez held it in his 
hand a short distance above the coil, in order to direct its 
movements. 

“ All ready there, Lopez ? ” cried the leader. 

“ Yes, captain.” 

“ Swing off the captain, then — no, not yet ; let him look 
at the floor ^n which he is going to dance ; that is but fair.” 

I had been drawn forward until my feet projected over 
the edge of the precipice, and close to the root of the tree. 
I was now forced into a sitting posture, so that I might look 
below, my limbs hanging over. Strange to say, I could not 
resist doing exactly what my tormentor wished. Under other 
circumstances the sight would have been to me appalling ; 
but my nerves were strung by the protracted agony I had 
been forced to endure. 

The precipice on whose verge I sat formed a side of one 
of those yawning gulfs common in Spanish America, and 
known by the name barra?icas. It seemed as if a mountain 
had been scooped out and carried away. Not two hundred 
yards horizontally distant was the twin jaw of the chasm, 
like a black burnt wall ; yet the torrent that roared and 
foamed between them was full six hundred feet below my 
position ! I could have flung the stump of a cigar upon the 
water ; in fact, an object dropping vertically from where I 
sat — for it was a projecting point — must have fallen plumb 
into the stream. 


A HANG BY THE HEELS. 


331 


A, 

It was not unlike the canon where we had tossed over the 
dogs ; but it was higher, and altogether more hell-like and 
horrible. 

As I looked down, several small birds, whose species I 
did not stay to distinguish, were screaming below, and an 
eagle on his broad, bold wing came soaring over the abyss, 
and flapped up to my very face. 

“ Well, captain,” broke in the sharp voice of Jaraiita, 
“ what do you think of it ? A nice soft floor to dance upon, 
isn’t it, Lopez ! ” 

“Yes, captain.” 

“ All ready there } Stop ! some music ; we must have 
music : how can he dance without music ? Hola, Sanchez, 
where’s your bugle ? ” 

“ Here, captain ! ” 

“Strike up, then! Play ‘Yankee Doodle.’ Ha! ha! 
ha ! ‘ Yankee Doodle,’ do you hear ? ” 

“ Yes, captain,” answered the man ; and the next mo- 
ment the well-known strains of the American national air 
sounded upon my ear, producing a strange, sad feeling I 
shall never forget. 

“ Now, Lopez ! ” cried the padre. 

I was expecting to be swung out, when I heard him again 
shout, “ Stay ! ” at the same time stopping the music. 

“ By heavens ! Lopez, I have a better plan,” he cried : 
why did I not think of it before ? It’s not too late yet. 
•Ha ! ha ! ha ! Carambo f They shall dance upon their 
heads ! That’s better — isn’t it, Lopez.? ” 

“Yes, captain.” 

A cheer from the Jarochos announced their approval of 
this change in the program. 

The padre made a sign to Lopez, who approached him, 
appearing to receive some directions. 

I did not at first comprehend the novelty that was about 
to be introduced. I was not kept long in ignorance. One 


332 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


of the Jarochos, seizing me by the collar, dragged me back 
from the ledge, and transferred the noose from my neck to 
my ankles. Horror heaped upon horror ! I was to ho. hung 
head doumwards ! 

“That will be much prettier — won’t it, Lopez?” 

“Yes, captain.” 

“ The gentleman will have time to make himself ready 
for heaven before he dies — won’t he, Lopez ? ” 

“Yes captain.” 

“Take out the gag — let him have his tongue free; he^ll 
need that to pray with — won’t he, Lopez ? ” 

“ Yes, captain.” 

One of the Jarochos jerked the bayonet roughly from my 
mouth, almost dislocating my jaw. The power of speech 
was gone. 1 could not, if 1 had wished it, have uttered an 
intelligible word. 

“Give him his hands, too; he’ll need them to keep off the 
zopilotes ; won’t he, Lopez ? ” 

“Yes, captain.” 

The thong that bound my wrists was cut, leaving my 
hands free. I was on my back, my feet towards the preci- 
pice. A little to my right stood Lopez, holding the rope 
that was about to launch me into eternity. 

“ Now the music — take the music for your cue, Lopez; 
then jerk him up ! ” cried the sharp voice of the fiend. 

I shut my eyes, waiting for the pull. It was but a mo- 
ment, but it seemed a lifetime. There was a dead silence — 
a stillness like that which precedes the bursting of a rock or 
the firing of a jubilee-gun. Then I heard the first note of 
the bugle, and along with it a crack — the crack of a rifle ; a 
man staggered over me, besprinkling my face with blood, 
and, falling forward, disappeared ! 

Then came the pluck upon my ankles, and I was jerked 
head downwards into the empty air. I felt my feet touch- 
ing The branches above, and, throwing up my arms, I 


A HANG BY THE HEELS. 


333 


\ 


grasped one, and swung my body upwards. After two or 
three efforts I lay along the main trunk, which I embraced 
with the hug of despair. I looked downward. A man was 
hanging below — far below — at the end of the lazo ! It 
w^as Lopez. I knew his scarlet manga at a glance. He 
was hanging by the thigh in a snarl of the rope. 

His hat had fallen off. I could see the red blood running 
over his face and dripping from his long, snaky locks. He 
hung head down. I could see that he was dead ! 

The hard thong was cutting my ankles, and — oh, heaven ! 
— under our united weight the roots were cracking ! 
Appalling thought ! “ The tree will give way I ” 

I held fast with one arm. I drew forth my knife — fortu- 
nately I still had one — with the other. I opened the blade 
with my teeth, and, stretching backward and downward, I 
drew it across the thong. It parted with a “ snig,” and the 
red object left me like a flash of light. There was a plunge 
upon the black water below — a plunge and a few white 
bubbles ; but the body of the Jarocho, with its scarlet trap- 
pings, was seen no more after that plunge. 




CHAPTER LIE 


A VERY SHORT TRIAL. 



URING all this time shots 
were ringing over me. 
I could hear the shouts 
and cheering of men, the 
trampling of heavy hoofs, and the 
clashing of sabers. I knew that 
some strange deliverance had 
reached us. I knew that a skir- 
mish was going on above me, but I 
could see nothing. I was below 
the level of the cliff. 

I lay in a terrible suspense, 

, listening. I dared not change my 
Vulture or Mexican Zopilote. ^ t j j rrn 

^ posture — I dared not move. The 

weight of the Jarocho’s body had hitherto held my feet 

securely in the notch ; but that was gone, and my ankles 

were still tied. A movement and my legs might fall off 

the limb and drag me downward. I was faint, too, from 

the protracted struggle for life and death, and I hugged the 

tree and held on like a wounded squirrel. 

The shots seemed less frequent, the shouts appeared to 


334 


A VERY SHORT TRIAL. 


335 

recede from the cliffs. Then I heard a cheer — an Anglo- 
Saxon cheer — an American cheer, and the next moment a 
well-known voice rang in my ears. 

“ By the livin’ catamount, he’s hyur yit ! Whooray — 
whoop ! Niver say die ! Hold on, cap’n, teeth an’ toenail ! 
Hyur, boys ! clutch on, a lot o’ yer ! Quick ! — hook my 
claws, Nat ! Now pull — all thegether ! — Hooray ! ” 

I felt a strong hand grasping the collar of my coat, and 
the next moment I was raised from my perch and landed 
upon the top of the cliff. 

I looked around upon my deliverers. Lincoln was danc- 
ing like a lunatic, uttering his wild, half-Indian yells. A 
dozen men, in the dark-green uniform of the “ mounted 
rifles,” stood looking on and laughing at this grotesque ex- 
hibition. Close by another party were guarding some pris- 
oners, while a hundred others were seen in scattered groups 
along the ridge, returning from the pursuit of the Jarochos, 
whom they had completely routed. 

I recognized Twing, and Hennessy, and Hillis, and sev- 
eral other officers whom I had met before. We were soon 
en rapport^ and I could not have received a greater variety 
of congratulations had it been the hour after my wedding. 

Little Jack was the guide of the rescue. 

After a moment spent in explanation with the major, I 
turned to look for Lincoln. He was standing close by, 
holding in his hands a piece of lazo, which he appeared to 
examine with a strange and puzzled expression. He had 
recovered from his burst of wild joy and was “ himself again.” 

“ What’s the matter, Bob ? ” I inquired, noticing his be- 
wildered look. 

‘‘Why, cap’n, I’m a sorter bamfoozled yeer. I kin 
understan’ well enuf how the feller jirked yer into the tree 
afore he let go. But how did this hyur whang kum cut ? 
An’ whar’s the other eend ? 

I saw that he held in his hand the noose of the lazo 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


336 

which he had taken from my ankles, and I explained the 
mystery of how it had “ kum cut/’ This seemed to raise 
me still higher in the hunter’s esteem. Turning to one of 
the riflemen, an old hunter like himself, he whispered — I 
overheard him ; 

“ I’ll tell yer what it is, Nat : he kin whip his weight in 
wild-cats or grizzly b’ars any day in the year — he kin, or my 
name ain’t Bob Linkin.” 

Saying this, he stepped forward on the cliff and looked 
over ; and then he examined the tree, and then the piece of 
lazo, and then the tree again, and then he commenced 
dropping pebbles down, as if he was determined to measure 
every object, and fix it in his memory with a proper dis- 
tinctness. 

Twing and the others had now dismounted. As d turned 
towards them Clayley was taking a pull at the major’s 
pewter — and a good long pull, too. I followed the lieu- 
tenant’s example, and felt the better for it. 

“ But how did you find us, major ? ” 

“This little soldier,” said he, pointing to Jack, “ brought 
us to the rancho where you were taken. From there we 
easily tracked you to a large hacienda.” 

“Ha ! you routed the guerilla, then ? 

“ Routed the guerilla ! VVe saw no guerilla.” 

“ What ! at the hacienda ? ” 

“ Peons and women ; nothing more. Yes, there was, too 
— what am I thinking about ? There was a party there that 
routed us! Thornley and Hillis here have both been 
wounded, and are not likely to recover — poor fellows ! ” 

I looked towards these gentlemen for an explanation. 
They were both laughing, and I looked in vain. 

“ Hennessy, too,” said the major, “ has got a stab under 
the ribs.” 

“ Och, by my soul have I, and no mistake ! ” cried the latter. 

'‘Gome, major— an explanation, if you please.” 


A VERY SHORT TRIAL. 


337 

I was in no humor to enjoy this joke. I half divined the 
cause of their mirth, and it produced in me an unaccount- 
able feeling of annoyance, not to say pain. 

“Be my faith, then, captain,” said Hennessy, speaking for 
the major, “ If ye must know all about it. I’ll tell ye myself. 
We overhauled a pair of the most elegant crayteurs you ever 
clapp’d eyes upon; and rich — rich as Craysus — wasn’t they, 
boys } ” 

“ Oh ! plenty of tin,” remarked Hillis. 

“ But, captain,” continued Hennessy, “ how they took on 
to your ‘ tiger ! ’ I thought they would have eaten the lit- 
tle chap, body, bones, and all.” 

I was chafing with impatience to know more, but I saw 
that nothing worth knowing could be had in that quarter. I 
determined, therefore, to conceal my anxiety, and find an 
early opportunity to talk to Jack. 

“But beyond the hacienda.?” I inquired, changing the 
subject. 

“ We trailed you down stream to the canon, where we 
found blood upon the rocks. Here we were at fault, when a 
handsome, delicate-looking lad, known somehow or other to 
your Jack, came up and carried us to the crossing above, 
where the lad gave us the slip, and we saw no more of him. 
We struck the hoofs again where he left uS, and followed them 
to a small prairie on the edge of the woods, where the ground 
was strangely broken and trampled. There they had turned 
back, and we lost all trace.” 

“ But how, then, did you come here ? ” 

“ By accident altogether. We were striking to the nearest 
point on the National Road when that tall sergeant of yours 
dropped down upon us out of the branches of a tree.” 

“Whom did you see, Jack? ” I whispered to the boy, after 
having drawn him aside. 

“ I saw them all, captain.” 

“ Well ? ” 


22 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


338 

“ They asked me where you were, and when I told 
them ’’ 

“Well — well ? ” 

“ They appeared to wonder ” 

“ Well ? ” 

“ And the young ladies ” 

“ And the young ladies ? 

“ They ran round, and cried, and 

Jack was the dove that brought the olive-branch. 

“ Did they say where they were going ? ” I inquired, after 
one of those sweet waking dreams. 

“ Yes, captain ; they are going up the country to live. 

“ Where ? — where ? ” 

“ I could not recollect the name — it was so strange.” 

“Jalapa? Orizava? Cordova? Puebla? Mexico?” 

“ I think it was one of them, but I cannot tell which. I 
have forgotten it, captain.” 

“ Captain Haller ! ” called the voice of the major ; “ here 
a moment, if you please. These are some of the men who 
were going to hang you, are they not ? ” 

Twing pointed to five of the Jarochos who had been cap- 
tured in the skirmish. 

“Yes,” replied I, “I think so ; yet I could not swear to 
their identity.” 

“ By the crass, major, I can swear to ivery mother’s son av 
thim ! There isn’t a scoundhrel among thim but has given 
me rayzon to remimber him, iv a harty kick in the ribs might 
be called a rayzon. O — h ! ye ugly spalpeens ! kick me now, 
will yez ? — will yez jist be plazed to trid upon the tail av my 
jacket ? ” 

“ Stand out here, my man,” said the major. 

Chane stepped forward, and swore away the lives of the 
five Jarochos in less than as many minutes. 

“ Enough ! ” said the major, after the Irishman had 
given his testimony. “ Lieutenant Claiborne,” continued 


A VERY SHORT TRIAL. 339 

he, addressing an officer the youngest in rank, “what sen- 
tence ? ” 

“ Hang !” replied the latter in a solemn voice. 

“Lieutenant Hillis ? ” 

“ Hang ! ” was the reply. 

“ Lieutenant Clayley ? ” 

“ Hang ! ” said Clayley in a quick and emphatic tone. 

“ Captain Hennessy ? ” 

“ Hang them ! ” answered the Irishman. 

“Captain Haller.?” 

“Have you determined, Major Twing?” I asked, in- 
tending, if possible, to mitigate this terrible sentence. 

“ We have no time. Captain Haller,” replied my superior, 
interrupting me, “nor opportunity to carry prisoners. Our 
army has reached Plan del Rio, and is preparing to attack 
the pass. An hour lost, and we may be too late for the 
battle. You know the result of that as well as I.” 

I knew Twing’s determined character too well to offer fur- 
ther opposition, and the Jarochos were condemned to be 
hung. 

The following extract from the major’s report of the affair 
will show how the sentence was carried out : 

“ We killed five of them and captured as many more, but 
the leader escaped. The prisoners were tried, and sentenced 
to be hung. They had a gallows already rigged for Captain 
Haller and his companions, and for want of a better we 
hanged them upon that.” 



CHAPTER LIII. 

A bird’s-eye view of a battle 

T was still only an hour by sun as we 
rode off from the Eagle’s Cave. At 
some distance I turned in my saddle 
and looked back. It was a singular 
sight, those five hanging corpses, and 
one not easily forgotten. What an appalling picture it must 
have been to their own comrades, who doubtless watched the 
spectacle from some distant elevation ! 

Motionless they hung, in all the picturesque drapery 
of their strange attire— draggling — dead! The pines bent 
slightly over, the eagle screamed as he swept past, and high 
in the blue air a thousand bald vultures wheeled and circled, 
descending at every curve. 

Before we had ridden out of sight the- Eagle’s Cliff was 
340 



A birdVeye view of a battle. 341 

black with zopilotes, hundreds clustering upon the pines, and 
whetting their fetid beaks over their prey, still warm, I could 
not help being struck with this strange transposition of vic- 
tims. 

We forded the stream below, and traveled for some hours 
in a westerly course, over a half-naked ridge. At midday 
we reached an arroyo — a clear, cool stream that gurgled 
along under a thick grove of the palma 7 'edonda. Here we 
“nooned,” stretching our bodies along the greensward. 

At sundown we rode into the pueblito of Jacomulco, where 
we had determined to pass the night. Twing levied on the 
alcalde for forage for “ man and beast.” The horses were 
picketed in the plaza, while the men bivouacked by their 
fires — strong mounted pickets having been thrown out on the 
roads or tracks that led to the village. 

By daybreak we were again in our saddles, and riding 
across another ridge, we struck the Plan River five miles 
above the bridge, and commenced riding down the stream. 
We were still far from the water, which roared and 
“soughed” in the bottom of a barranca, hundreds of feet 
below our path. 

On crossing an eminence a sight suddenly burst upon us 
that caused us to leap up in our saddles. Directly before us, 
and not a mile distant, rose a high round hill like a semi- 
globe, and from a small tower upon its top waved the stand- 
ard of Mexico. 

Long lines of uniformed men girdled the tower, formed in 
rank. Horsemen in bright dresses galloped up and down 
the hill. We could seethe glitter of brazen helmets, and the 
glancing of a thousand bayonets. The burnished howitzer 
flashed in the sunbeams, and we could discern the cannoniers 
standing by their posts. Bugles were braying and drums 
rolling. So near were they that we could distinguish the 
the call. I'hey we^'e sounding the “ lotigrolV ' ! 

“Halt! Great heaven 1 ” cried Twing, jerking his horse 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


34 ^ 

upon its haunches ; “ we are riding into the enemy’s camp! 
Guide l^he added, turning fiercely to Raoul, and half draw- 
ing his sword, “what’s this ? ” 

“ The hill, major, replied the soldier coolly, “ is ‘ El Tel- 
egrafo.’ It is the Mexican headquarters, I take it.” 

“ And, sir, what mean you ? It is not a mile distant ! ” 

“ It is ten miles, major.” 

“ Ten ! Why, sir, I can trace the eagle upon that flag ! 

It is not one mile, by Heaven ! ” 

“ By the eye, true ; but by the road, major, it is what I 
have said — ten miles. We passed the crossing of the 
barranca some time ago ; there is no other before we reach 
El Plan.” 

It was true. Although within range of the enemy’s light- 
est metal, we were ten miles off 1 

A vast chasm yawned between us and them. The next 
moment we were upon its brink, and, wheeling sharply to 
the right, we trotted on as fast as the rocky road would 
allow us. 

“ O heavens I Haller, we shall be too late. Gallop ! ” 
shouted Twing, as we pressed our horses side by side. 

The troop at the word sprang into a gallop. El Plan, the 
bridge, the hamlet, the American camp with its thousand 
white pyramids, all burst upon us like a flash — below, far ^ 
below, lying like a map. We are still opposite El Telegrafo 1 
“ By heavens ! ” cried Twing, “ our camp is empty 1 ” 

A few figures only vere visible, straggling among the 
tents ; the teamster, the camp-guard, the invalid soldier. 

“ Look 1 look 1 ” 

I followed the direction indicated. Against the long ridge 
that rose over the camp a dark-blue line could be traced — a 
line of uniformed men, glistening as they moved with the 
sparkle of ten thousand bayonets. It wound along the hill 
like a bristling snake, and, heading towards El Telegrafo, 
disappeared for a moment behind the ridge. 


A BIRD S-EYE VIEW OF A BATTLE. 343 

A gun from the globe-shaped hill— and then another ! an- 
other ! another !— a roll of musketry !— drums— bugles — 
shouts — cheering ! 

“ The battle’s begun ! ” 

“ We are too late ! ” 

We were still eight miles from the scene of action. We 
checked up, and sat chafing in our saddles. 

And now the roll of musketry became incessant, and we 
could hear the crack ! crack ! of the American rifles. And 
bombs hurtled and rockets hissed through the air. 

The round hill was shrouded in a cloud of sulphur, and 
through the smoke we could see small parties creeping up 
from rock to rock, from bush to bush, firing as they went. 
We could see some tumbling back under the leaden hail 
that was poured upon them from above. 

And then a strong band debouched from the woods below, 
and strained upward, daring all danger. Up, up !— and 
bayonets were crossed, and sabers glistened and grew red> 
and wild cries filled the air. And then came a cheer, long, 
loud, and exulting, and under the thinning smoke thousands 
were seen rushing down the steep, and flinging themselves 
into the woods. 

We knew not as yet which party it was that were thus 
flying. We looked at the tower in breathless suspense. The 
cloud was around its base, where musketry was still rolling, 
sending its deadly missiles after the fugitives below. 

“ Look ! look ! ” cried a voice ; “ the Mexican flag — it is 
down ! See / ‘ the star-spangled banner ” 

The American standard was slowly unfolding itself over 
the blue smoke, and we could easily distinguish the stripes, 
and the dark square in the corner with its silvery stars ; 
and, as if with one voice, our troops broke into a wild 
“ Hurrah ! ” 

In less time than you have taken in reading this account 
of it the battle of Cerro Gordo was lost and won. 



CHAPTER LIV. 


AN ODD WAY OF ESCAPING FROM A BATTLE-FIELD. 





E sat on our horses, fac- 
ing the globe-shaped 
summit of El Tele- 
grafo, and watching 
our flag as it swung out from 
the tower. 

“ Look yonder ! what is that ? ” 
cried an offlcer, pointing across 
the barranca. 

All eyes were now turned in 
the direction indicated. A white 
line was slowly moving down 
the face of the opposite cliff. 

“ Rein back, men ! rein back ! ” shouted Twing, as his 
eye rested upon the strange object. “ Throw yourselves 
under cover of the hill ! ” 


344 


AN ODD ESCAPE FROM A BATTLE-FIELD. 345 

In a minute our whole party — dragoons, officers, and all 
— had galloped our horses into the bed of a dry arroyo, 
where we were completely screened from observation. 
Three or four of us, dismounting, along with Twing, crept 
cautiously forward to the position we had just left, and, 
raising our heads over the bunch-grass, looked across the 
chasm. We were close to its edge, and the opposite 
“ cheek ” of the barranca, a huge wall of trap-rock, about a 
mile horizontally distant, rose at least a thousand feet from 
the river bottom. Its face was almost perpendicular, with 
the exception of a few stairs or platforms in the basaltic 
strata, and from these hung out stunted palms, cedars, and 
dark, shapeless masses of cacti and agave. 

Down this front the living line was still moving — slowly, 
zigzag — along narrow ledges and over jutting points, as 
though some white liquid or a train of gigantic insects were 
crawling down the precipice. The occasional flash of a 
bright object would have told us the nature of this strange 
phenomenon, had we not guessed it already. They were 
armed men — Mexicans — escaping from the field of battle ; 
and in a wood upon the escarpment of the cliff we could 
perceive several thousands of their comrades huddled up, 
and waiting for an opportunity to descend. They were 
evidently concealed, and out of all danger from their pur- 
suers on the other side. Indeed, the main body of the 
American army had already passed their position, and were 
moving along the Jalapa road, following up the clouds of 
dust that hung upon the retreating squadrons of Santa Anna. 

We lay for some time observing the motions of these cun- 
ning fugitives as they streamed downward. The head of 
their line had nearly reached the timbered bottom, through 
whose green fringes the Plan River swept onward, curving 
from cliff to cliff. 

Impatient looks were cast towards the major, whose cold 
gray eye showed no signs of action. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


346 

“ Well, major — what’s to be done ? ” asked one. 

“ Nothing,” was the impressive reply. 

“ Nothing ! ” echoed every one. 

“ Why, what could we do ? ” 

“ Take them prisoners — every one of them.” 

“ Whom prisoners ? ” 

“ These Mexicans— these before us.” 

“ Ha ! before you they are — a long way, too. Bah ! they 
are ten miles off, and, even if we could ride straight down 
the bluff with winged horses, what could our hundred men 
do in that jungle below ? Look yonder ! — there are a thou- 
sand of them crawling over the .rocks ! ” 

“And what signify numbers ?” asked I, now speaking for 
the first time. “ They are already defeated and flying — 
half of them. I’ll wager, without arms. Come, major, let us 
go ! We can capture the whole party without firing a shot.” 

“ But, my dear captain, we cannot reach them where they 
are.” . 

“ It is not necessary. If we ride up the cliffs, they will 
come to us.” 

“ How ? ” 

“ You see this dark line. It is not three miles distant. 
You know that timber like that does not grow on the naked 
face of a cliff. It is a gorge, and, I’ll warrant, a watercourse 
too. They will pass through it. 

“ Beautiful ! We could meet them as they came up it,” 
cried several at once. 

“ No, lads ! — no! You are all wrong. They will keep 
the bottom — the heavy timber, I warrant you. It’s no use 
losing time. We must round to the road, and forward. 
Who knows that w^e may not find work enough yet ? 
Come I ” 

So saying, our commanding-officer rose up, and, walking 
back, to the arroyo, leaped into his saddle. Of course we 
followed his example, but with no very amiable feelings. I, 


AN ODD ESCAPE FROM A BATTLE-FIELD. 347 

for one, felt satisfied that we might have made a dashing 
thing of it, and entered the camp with flying colors. I felt, 
and so did my friend Clayley, like a schoolboy who had 
come too late for his lesson, and would gladly have been 
the bearer of a present to his master : moreover, we had 
learned from our comrades that it was the expressed inten- 
tion of the commander-in-chief to capture as many of the 
enemy as possible on this occasion. This determination 
arose from the fact, well authenticated, that hundreds who 
had marched out of Vera Cruz on parole had gone direct to 
Cerro Gordo, with the intention of fighting us again ; and 
no doubt some of these honorable soldiers were among the 
gentry now climbing down the barranca. 

With these feelings, Clayley and I were anxious to do 
something that might cover our late folly, and win our way 
back to favor at headquarters. 

“ Let me take fifty of your men and try this. You know. 
Major Twing, I have a score to rub out.” 

“ I cannot, captain — I cannot. We must on. Forward ! ” 

And the next moment we were moving at a trot in the 
direction of El Plan. 

For the first time I felt angry at Twing ; and, drawing my 
bridle tighter, I fell back to the rear. What would I not 
have given for the Rifle Rangers ” at that moment ? 

I was startled from a very sullen reverie by a shot, the 
whistling of a rifle bullet, and the loud “ Halt ! ” of the 
major in front. Raising myself on the instant, I could see a 
greenish-looking object just disappearing over the spur of a 
ridge. It was a vidette, who had fired and run in. 

“ Do you think they are any of our people ? ” 

“ That ’ar’s one of our kump’ny, cap’n ; I seed the green 
on his cap,” said Lincoln. 

I galloped to the front. Twing was just detaching a small 
party to reconnoiter. I fell in along with this, and after 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


348 

riding a hundred yards we looked over the ridge, and saw, not 
four hundred yards distant, a ten-inch howitzer, that had 
just been wheeled round, and now stood gaping at us. In 
rear of the gun stood a body of artillerists, and on their 
flanks a larger body of what appeared to be light infantry or 
rifles. It would have been anything but a pleasing sight, 
but that a small flag with red and white stripes was playing 
over the gun ; and our party, heedless of their orders, leaped 
their horses on the ridge and, pulling off their caps, saluted it 
with a cheer. 

The soldiers by the battery still stood undecided, not 
knowing what to make of our conduct, as they were the ad- 
vanced outpost in this direction, when a mounted rifleman 
galloped up and displayed the flag of his regiment. 

A wild cheer echoed back from the battery ; and the next 
moment both parties had met, and were shaking each other’s 
hands with the hearty greetings of long-parted friends. 

Not the least interesting to me was the fact that my own 
corps, under the command of its lieutenant, formed the prin- 
cipal guard of the gun ; and the welcome of our old comrades 
was such as we should have received had we come back from 
the grave. They had long since made up their minds that 
they had seen the last of us ; and it was quite amusing to 
witness these brave tirailkiirs as they gathered around Lin- 
coln and his comrades to hear the story of our adventures. 



CHAPTER LV. 

A WHOLESALE CAPTURE. 

N a few minutes our greetings were 
over. Twing moved on, taking with 
him his squadron of mounted men. 
I had made up my mind to take the 
opposite 7vad — the “ back track.” I was now in command of 
a force — my own — and I felt keenly the necessity of doing 
something to redeem my late folly. Clayley was as anxious 
as myself. 

“ You do not need them any longer ? ” said I to Ripley, a 
gallant young fellow, who commanded the howitzer. 

“ No, captain ; I have thirty artillerists here. It is strange 
if we can’t keep the piece and manage it against ten times 
that number of such heroes as we have seen over yonder.” 
And he pointed to the flying enemy on the other side of the 
barranca. 



349 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


350 

“ What say you to going with us ? ” 

“ I should like it well ; By Jove ! but duty, my dear H. — 
duty. I must stay by the gun.” 

“ Good-bye, then, comrade ! We have no time to lose — 
farewell ! ” 

“ Good-bye ; and if you’re whipped, fall back on me. I’ll 
keep the piece here till you return, and there’ll be a good 
load of grape ready for anybody that may be in pursuit of 
you.” 

The company had by this time formed on the flank of the 
howitzer, and at the words “ Forward ! — quick time ! ” 
started briskly across the hills. 

In a few minutes we had reached the point where the road 
trended for some distance along the brow of the precipice. 
Here we halted a moment ; and taking Lincoln and Raoul, 
I crawled forward to our former point of observation. 

Our time spent at the battery had been so short, that, with 
the difficulty which the enemy experienced in descending the 
cliff, the head of their line had only now reached the bottom 
of the barranca. They were running in twos and threes to- 
wards the stream, which, near this point, impinged upon the 
foot of the precipice. With a small glass that I had obtained 
from Ripley I could see their every movement. Some of 
them were without arms — they had doubtless thrown them 
away — while others still carried their muskets, and not a few 
were laden with knapsacks, and heavy burdens, too ; the 
household gods — perhaps stolen ones — of their own camp. 
As they reached the greensward dropping down in a con- 
stant stream, they rushed forward to the water, scrambling 
into it in thirsty crowds, and falling upon their knees to 
drink. Some of them filled their canteens and went on. 

“ They intend to take the hills,” thought I. I knew there 
was no water for miles in that direction. 

As I swept the glass round the bottom of the cliff, I was 


A WHOLESALE CAPTURE. 


351 

struck with an object that stood in a clump of palm-trees. 
It was a mule saddled, and guarded by several soldiers more 
richly uniformed than the masses who were struggling past 
them. 

“ They are waiting for some officer of rank,” thought I. 
I moved the glass slowly along the line of descending bodies, 
and upward against the rocks to a small platform, nearly 
half-way up the cliff. Several bright uniforms flashed upon 
the lens. The platform was shaded with palms ; and I could 
see that this party had halted a moment for the purpose (as 
I then conjectured) of allowing the foremost fugitives to 
pioneer the wooded bottom. I was right. As soon as these 
had crossed the stream, and made some way in the jungle 
along its banks, the former continued their descent ; and 
now I saw what caused my pulse to beat feverishly — that 
one of these carried a dark object on his back. An object ? 
— a man — and that man could be no other than the lame 
tyrant of Mexico. 

I can scarcely describe my feelings at this moment. The 
young hunter who sees noble game — a bear, a panther a 
buffalo — within reach of his rifle for the first time, might 
feel as I did. I hated this man, as all honest men must and 
should hate a cowardly despot. During our short campaign 
I had heard many a well-authenticated story of his base 
villainy, and I believe at that moment I would have willingly 
parted with my hand to have brought him as near to me as 
he appeared under the field of the telescope. I thought I 
could even distinguished the lines, deep furrowed by guilt, 
on his dark, malice-marked face ; and as I became sure of 
the identity, I drew back my head, cautioning my compan- 
ions to do the same. 

Now was the time for action, and putting up the glass, 
we crawled back to our comrades. I had learned from 
Raoul that the dark line which I had noticed before was, as 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


352 

I had conjectured, the canon of a small arroyo, heavily tim- 
bered, and forming a gap or pass that led to the Plan River. 
It was five miles distant, instead of three. So much the 
better, and with a quick, crouching gait we were once more 
upon our way. I had told my comrades enough to make 
some of them as eager as I. Many of them would have 
given half a life for a shot at game like that. Not a few of 
them remembered they had lost a brother on the plains of 
Goliad, or at the fortress of the Alamo. 

The Rangers, moreover, had been chafing “ all day for a 
fight,” and now, so unexpectedly led at something like it, 
they were just in the humor. They moved as one man, and 
the five miles that lay between us and the gorge were soon 
passed to the rear. We reached it, I think, in about an 
hour. Considering the steep pass through which the enemy 
must come, we knew there was a breathing-time, though not 
long, for us ; and during this I matured my plans, part of 
which I had arranged upon the route. 

A short survey of the ground convinced us that it could 
not have been better fitted for an ambuscade had we chosen 
it at our leisure. The gorge or canon did not run directly 
up the cliff, but in a zigzag line, so that a man at the top 
could only alarm another coming up after him by shouting 
or firing his piece. This was exactly what we wanted, 
knowing that, although we might capture a few of the fore- 
most, those in the rear, being alarmed, could easily take to 
the river bottom and make their escape through the thickets. 
It was our design to make our prisoners, if possible, with- 
out firing a single shot ; and this, under the circumstances, 
we did not deem an impossible matter. 

The pass was a dry arroyo, its banks fringed with large 
pines and cotton-woods, matted together by llianas and vines. 
Where the gorge debouched into the uplands, its banks 
were high and naked, with here and there a few scattered 


A WHOLESALE CAPTURE. 353 

palmettoes that grew up from huge hassocks of bunch- 
grass. 

Behind each of these bunches a rifleman was stationedj 
forming a deployed line, with its concave arc facing the em- 
bouchure of the gorge, and gradually closing in, so that it 
ended in a clump of thick chapparal upon the very verge of 
the precipice. At this point, on each side of the path, were 
stationed half a dozen men, in such a position as to be hidden 
from any party passing upward, until it had cleared the 
canon and its retreat was secured against. At the opposite 
end of the elliptical deployment a stronger party was sta- 
tioned, Clayley in command and Raoul to act as interpreter. 
Oakes and I took our places, commanding the separate 
detachments on the brow. 

Our arrangements occupied us only a few minutes. I 
had to deal with men, many of whom had “ surrounded ” 
buffaloes in a somewhat similar manner ; and it did not re- 
quire much tact to teach them a few modifications in the 
game. In five minutes we were all in our places, waiting 
anxiously and in perfect silence. 

As yet not a murmur had reached us from below, except 
the sighing of the wind through the tall trees, and the 
“ sough ” of the river as it tumbled away over its pebbly 
bed. Now and then we heard a stray shot, or the quick, 
sharp notes of a cavalry bugle ; but these were far off, and 
only told of the wild work that was still going on along the 
road towards Encerro and Jalapa. 

Not a word was spoken by us to each other. The men 
who were deployed along the hill lay hidden behind the 
hassocks of the palmettoes, and from our position not one 
of them was to be seen. 

I must confess I felt strange emotions at this moment — 
one of the most anxious of my life ; and although I felt no 
hate towards the enemy — no desire to injure one of them, 

23 


354 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


excepting him of whom I have spoken — there was some- 
thing so wild, so thrilling, in the excitement of thus entrap- 
ping man^ the highest of all animals, that I could not have 
foregone the inhuman sport. I had no intention that it 
should be inhuman. I well knew what would be their 
treatment as prisoners of war ; and I had given orders that 
not a shot should be fired nor a blow struck, in case they 
threw down their arms and yielded without resistance. But 
for him — humanity had many a score to settle with him ; 
and at the time I did not feel a very strong inclination to 
resist what would be the Rangers’ desire on that question. 

“ Is not all our fine ambuscade for nothing ? ” I said to 
myself, after a long period of waiting, and no signs of an 
enemy. 

I had begun to fancy as much, and to suspect that the 
flying Mexicans had kept along the river, when a sound 
like the humming of bees came up the pass. Presently it 
grew louder, until I could distinguish the voices of men. 
Our hearts as yet beat louder than their voices. Now the 
stones rattled, as, loosened from their sloping beds, they 
rolled back and downwards. 

“ Guardaos, hombre (Look out, man !), shouted one. 

“ Carrajo I'* cried another ; “ take care what you’re about 1 
I haven’t escaped the Yankee bullets to-day to have my skull 
cloven in that fashion. Arriba / arriba I ” 

“ I say, Antonio — ^you’re sure this road leads out 
above ? ” 

“ Quite sure, camaradoP 
“ And then on to Orizava ? ” 

“ On to Orizava — derecho^ derecho''' 

“ But how far — hombre ? ” 

“ Oh! there are halting-places— 

“ Vayaf I don’t care how soon we reach them. I’m as 
hungry as a famished coyote.” 


A WHOLESALE CAPTURE. 355 

“ Carrai ! the coyotes of these parts won’t be hungry for 
some time. Vaya ! ’’ 

“ Who knov.^s whether they’ve killed ‘ El Cojo ’ ? ” 

“ ‘ Catch a fox, kill a fox.’ No. He’s found some hole 
to creep through, I warrant him. 

‘ El que mata un ladron 
Tiene cien anos de perdon. ’ ” 

( He who kills a robber will receive a hundred years of 
pardon for the offense.) 

This was hailed with a sally by the very men who, only 
one hour ago, were shouting themselves hoarse with the 
cries of “ Viva el general! Viva SaniaAnna!’^ And on 
they scrambled, talking as before, one of them informing his 
comrades with a laugh that if “ los Tejanos ” could lay their 
hands upon “ El Cojo,” they, the Mexicans, would have to 
look out for a new president. 

They had now passed us. We were looking at their 
backs. The first party contained a string of fifteen or 
twenty, mostly soldiers of the “ raw battalions ” — conscripts 
who wore the white linen jackets and wide, sailor-looking 
pantaloons of the volunteer. 

Raw as these fellows were, either from their position in 
the battle^ or, more likely, from a better knowledge of the 
country, they had been able thus far to make their escape, 
when thousands of their veteran companions had been cap- 
tured. But few of them were armed ; they had thrown their 
guns away in the hurry of flight. 

At this moment we could distinguish the voices of 
Raoul : 

“ Alio / ahajo las armas (Halt ! down with arms !) 

At this challenge we could see — for they were still in 
sight — that some of the Mexicans leaped clear up from the 
ground. One or two looked back, as if with the intention 


356 THE RIFLE RANGERS. 

of re-entering the gorge, but a dozen muzzles met their 
gaze. 

“ Adelante ! adelante f—somos amigos ” (Forward ! — we are 
friends), I said to them in a half-whisper, fearing to alarm 
their comrades in the rear, at the same time waving them 
onward. 

As on one side Clayley presented a white flag, while on 
the other there was , to be seen a bunch of dark yawning 
tubes, the Mexicans were not long in making their choice. 
In a minute they had disappeared from our sight, preferring 
the companionship of Clayley and Raoul, who would know 
how to dispose of them in a proper manner. 

We had scarcely got rid of these when another string 
debouched up the glen, unsuspicious as were their comrades 
of the fate that awaited them. 

These were managed in a similar manner ; and another 
and another party, all of whom were obliged to give up their 
arms and fling themselves to the earth, as soon as they had 
reached the open ground above. 

This continued until I began to grow fearful that we were 
making more prisoners than we could safely hold, and on 
the knowledge of this fact they might try to overpower us. 

But the tempting prize had not yet appeared. He could 
not be far distant, and, allured by this prospect, I determined 
to hold out a while longer. 

A termination, however, to our wholesale trapping was 
brought about by an unexpected event. A party, consisting 
of some ten or fifteen men, many of them officers, suddenly 
appeared, and marched boldly out of the gorge. 

As these struck the level ground we could hear the 
“ Alto I ” of Raoul ; but instead of halting as their compan- 
ions had done, several of them drew their swords and pistols 
and rushed down the pass. 

A volley from both sides stopped the retreat of some ; 


A WHOLESALE CAPTURE. 


357 


others escaped along the sides of the cliff ; and a few — not 
over half a dozen — succeeded in entering the gorge. It was, 
of course, beyond our power to follow them ; and I ordered 
the deployed line to close in around the prisoners already 
taken, lest they should attempt to imitate their braver com- 
rades. 

We had no fear of being assailed from the ravine. Those 
who had gone down carried a panic along with them that 
would secure us from that danger. At the same time we 
knew that the tyrant would now be alarmed and escape. 

Several of the Rangers — souvenirs of Santa Fe and San 
Jacinto — requested my permission to go upon his “trail” 
and pick him off. 

This request, under the circumstances, I could not grant, 
and we set about securing our prisoners. Gun-slings and 
waist-belts were soon spilt into thongs, and with these our 
captives were tied two and two, forming in all a battalion 
of a hundred and fifteen files — two hundred and thirty 
men. 

With these arranged in such a manner as we could most 
conveniently guard them, we marched triumphantly into the 
American camp. 




CHAPTER LVI. 

A DUEL, WITH AN ODD ENDING. 

FTER the battle of Cerro Gordo, our 
victorious troops pursued the enemy 
on to Jalapa, where the army halted 
to bring up its wounded, and prepare 
for an advance upon the capital of 
Mexico. 

not receive us inhospitably — nor the 
Jalapenas either. They expected, as a matter of course, that 
we would sack their beautiful city. This we did not do, and 
their gratitude enabled our officers to pass their time some- 
what agreeably. The gay round that always succeeds a 
battle — for dead comrades are soon forgotten amidst con- 
gratulations and new titles — had no fascination for me. 

The balls, the tertulias the dias de campo^ were alike insipid 
and tiresome. She was not there — and where ? I knew not. 
I might never see her again. All I knew was, that they had 
gone up the country — perhaps to Cordova or Orizava. 

Clayley shared my feelings. The bright eyes in the bal- 
conies, the sweet voices in the orange-shaded patios of Jalapa, 

358 



A DUEL, WITH AN ODD ENDING. 359 

had neither brightness nor music for us. We were both 
thoroughly miserable. 

To add to this unhappy state of things, a bad feeling had 
sprung up among the officers of our army — a jealousy be- 
tween the old and the new. Those of the old standing army 
holding themselves as a species of military aristocracy, looked 
upon their brethren of the new regiments as “ interlopers ” ; 
and this feeling pervaded all ranks, from the commander-in- 
chief down to the lowest subaltern. 

It did not, however, interest all individuals. There were 
many honorable men on both sides who took no part in a 
question so ridiculous, but, on the contrary, endeavored to 
frown it down. It was the child of idleness and a long spell 
of garrison duty. On the eve of a battle it always disappeared. 
I have adverted to this, not that it might interest the reader, 
but as explaining a result connected with myself. 

One of the most prominent actors in this quarrel, on the 
side of the “ old regulars,” was a young officer named Ran- 
som, a captain in an infantry regiment. He was a good 
fellow in other respects, and a brave soldier, I believe ; his 
chief weakness lay in a claim to be identified with the 
“ aristocracy.” 

It is strange that this miserable ambition is always strong- 
est where it should exist with the least propriety. I have ob- 
served, in traveling though life — and so has the reader, no 
doubt — that parvenus are the greatest sticklers for aristo- 
cratic privilege : and Captian Ransom was no exception to 
this rule. In tumbling over some old family papers, I had 
found a receipt from the gallant captain’s grandfather to my 
own progenitor,, acknowledging the payment of a bill for 
leather breeches. 

It so happened that this very receipt was in my portman- 
teau at the time ; and, nettled at the “ carryings on” of the 
tailor’s grandson, I drew it forth and spread it out upon the 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


360 

mess-table. My brethren of the mess were highly tickled at 
the document, several of them copying it off for future use. 

A copy soon reached Ransom, who in his hour of in- 
dignation made use of certain expressions that, in their turn, 
soon reached me. 

The result was a challenge borne by my friend Clayley, 
and the affair was arranged for the following morning. 

The place chosen for our morning’s diversion was a se- 
questered spot upon the banks of the river Zedena, and along 
the solitary road that leads out towards the Cofre de Perote. 

At sunrise we rode out in two carriages, six of us, includ- 
ing our seconds and surgeons. About a mile from town we 
halted, and, leaving the carriages upon the road, crossed 
over into a small glade in the midst of the chapparal. 

It was as pretty a spot for our purpose as the heart could 
wish for, and had often, we were informed, been used for 
similar morning exercises — ^that was, before chivalry had died 
out among the descendants of Cortez and the conquerors. 

The ground was soon lined off — ten paces — and we took 
our stands, back to back. We were to wheel at the word 
“ Ready ! ” and fire at “ One, two, three ! ” 

We were waiting for the word, with that deathlike silence 
which always precedes a similar signal, when Little Jack, who 
had been left with the carriages, rushed into a glade, calling 
with all his might : 

“ Captain ! captain ! ” 

Every face was turned upon him with scowling inquiry, 
when the boy, gasping for breath, shouted out : 

“ The Mexicans are on the road ! ” 

The words had scarcely passed his lips when the tramp- 
ling of hoofs sounded in our ears, and the next moment a 
band of horsemen came driving pell-mell into the opening. 
At a single glance we recognized the guerilla ! 

Ransom, who was nearest, blazed away at the foremost of 


A DUEL, WITH AN ODD ENDING. 361 

the band, missing his aim. With a spring the guerillero was 
over him, his saber raised for the blow. I fired, and the 
Mexican leaped from his saddle with a groan. 

Thank you, Haller,” cried my antagonist, as we rushed 
side by side towards the pistols. 

There were four pairs in all, and the surgeons and seconds 
had already armed themselves, and were pointing their weap- 
ons at the enemy. We seized the remaining two, cocking 
them as we turned. 

At this moment my eye fell upon a black horse, and, look- 
ing, I recognized the rider. He saw and recognized me at 
the same moment, and, driving the spurs into his horse’s 
flanks, sprang forward with a yell. With one bound he was 
over me, his white teeth gleaming like a tiger’s. His saber 
flashed in my eyes — I fired — a heavy body dashed against 
me — I was struck senseless to the earth ! 

I was only stunned, and in a few moments I came to my 
senses. Shots and shouts rang around me. I heard the 
trampling of hoofs and the groans of wounded men. 

I looked up. Horsemen in dark uniforms were galloping 
across the glade and into the woods beyond. I recognized 
the yellow facings of the American dragoons. 

I drew my hand over my face ; it was wet with blood. A 
heavy body lay across mine, which Little Jack, with all his 
strength, was endeavoiing to drag off. I crawled from un- 
der it, and, bending over, looked at the features. I knew 
them at a glance. I muttered to my servant : 

“ Dubrosc ! He is dead ! ” 

His body lay spread out in its picturesque attire. A fair 
form it was. A bullet— my own — had passed through his 
heart, killing him instantly. I placed my hand upon his fore- 
head. It was cold already, and his beautiful features were 
white and ashy. His eyes glared with the ghastly expression 
of death. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


362 

“ Close them,” I said to the boy, and turned away from 
the spot. 

Wounded men lay around, dragoons and Mexicans, and 
some were already dead. 

A party of officers was at the moment returning from the 
pursuit, and I recognized my late adversary, with our seconds 
and surgeons. My friend Clayley had been wounded in the 
mUee, and I observed that he carried his arm in a sling. A 
dragoon officer galloped up. 

It was Colonel Harding. 

“ These fellows, gentlemen,” cried he, reining up his 
horse, “ just came in time to relieve me from a disagreeable 
duty. I have orders from the commander-in-chief to arrest 
Captains Haller and Ransom. 

“ Now, gentlemen,” he continued with a smile, “ I think 
you have had fighting enough for one morning, and if you 
will promise me to be quiet young men, and keep the peace, 
I shall for once in my life, take the liberty of disobeying a 
general’s orders. What say you, gentlemen ? ” 

It needed not this appeal. There had been no serious 
cause of quarrel between fny adversary and myself, and, 
moved by a simlar impulse, we both stepped forward and 
grasped one another by the hand. 

“ Forgive me, my dear Haller,” said Ransom ; “ I retract 
all. I assure you my remarks were only made upon the spur 
of the moment, when I was angry about those cussed leather 
breeches.” 

“ And I regret to have given you cause,” I replied. “ Come 
with me to my quarters. Let us have a glass of wine to- 
gether, and we shall light our cigars with the villainous doc- 
ument.” 

A burst of laughter followed, in which Ransom good-na- 
turedly joined ; and we were soon on our way to town, seated 
in the same carriage, and the best friends in creation ! 


A DUEL, WITH AN ODD ENDING. 363 
****** 

Some of the soldiers who had “ rifled ” the body of 
Dubrosc found a paper upon him which proved that the 
Frenchman was a spy in the service of Santa Anna. He had 
thrown himself into the company at New Orleans with the 
intention of gaining information, and then deserting on his 
arrival at Mexico. This he succeeded in doing in the manner 
detailed. Had he been in command of the “ Rifle Rangers,” 
he would doubtless have found an opportunity to deliver them 
over to the enemy at La Virgen or elsewhere. 




CHAPTER LVII. 

BRACE OF RUFFIAN SOLDIERS. 

HORTLY after the occurrence of the duel, 
some changes were made in the quarters 
of the American army. Worth, command- 
ing the vanguard division, had pushed 
forward to Perote, and occupied the town 
and fortress ; but the arrival of fresh re- 
giments from the United States rendered 
it necessary that a camp should be formed, 
as in Jalapa there was not barrack-room 
to accommodate the troops. A camp was 
accordingly chosen at a place called Serena 
— a hacienda about a league and a half out of Jalapa, 
and nearer the mountains. Here a division of the army 
went into cantonment, to wait some troops still on their way 
from the United States, before making the final advance 
upon the capital. 

The “ Rifle Rangers ” was one of the corps destined to camp 

364 



A BRACE OF RUFFIAN SOLDIERS. 365 

duty at Serena, and this announcement was received by my 
comrades with feelings akin to dismay. 

“ Leave Jalapa ! ” echoed a dozen voices in tones of in- 
dignation. 

“ Ay, just so,” muttered Blossom ; “ always the way — just 
as one was getting comfortably fixed ! ” 

“ Hard case— ain’t it, lads ? ” said Twing, taking a pull 
at his flask. “ Pretty town Jalapa — pretty girls. Hard luck 
to leave it ! ” 

“ But what sort of a place is Serena ? ” asked one. “ I 
never heard of it.” 

“ Only a hacienda,” replied Blossom — “ a posada — a 
country inn — no houses — no fuel — plenty of water — mud 
knee-deep : a confounded nasty hole — that’s what it is.” 

“ The plague take old Scott ! ” said one. “ I wish he was 
in — in — in ’ ’ 

“ Say Hong Kong, major,” suggested a young officer, in- 
terrupting the major’s fearful anathema against the com- 
mander-in-chief. 

“ Too good for him,” said the major — “ he always serves 
me so. If there’s any work either dirty or dangerous, old 
Bios is sure to have it. Anything good enough for him ; ” 
and here the major uttered another of his picturesque ex- 
clamations. 

The order of a commander-in-chief requires obedience, 
and in ten hours after its reception we were marching out of 
Jalapa, the lovely Jalapehas saluting us with parting smiles 
as we passed under their balconies. 

We found Serena what the major had represented it, a 
filthy mud-hole, with nothing in creation to recommend it 
for a military cantonment but water. That we had to our 
hearts’ content, for the rainy, season had just set in, and 
we were treated each day to some five or six hours of a 
planet” shower. During these hours the rain fell as if 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


366 

from a thousand spouts, and it was utterly impossible to put 
one’s nose out of one’s tent without being wet to the shirt. 
It is true we had bright mornings up till twelve ; but^what 
of that ? There was nowhere to go. We might stroll 
through the neighboring fields and thickets, taking care not 
to go too far, as some of our fellows had been carried in 
without any breath in their bodies, and a t neatly carved on 
their cold foreheads. 

God help us ! never was there such a camp as ours at 
Serena. To make matters more disagreeable to me, I had 
lost for a time the cheerful companionship of my friend 
Clayley, as the lieutenant, who had not yet recovered from 
his wounds, remained in Jalapa. His place in my affections 
was temporarily supplied by a brave but soraiewhat singular, 
fellow named Taplin, also a lieutenant in our corps, who, 
previous to his joining the army, had led a wild and adven- 
turous life upon the prairies. He was still young, but 
taciturn, and of modest demeanor, though as bold as a lion. 
His cool courage and perilous experiences greatly interested 
me, and we were much in each other’s company. 

“ Come, come, let us be off, Harry ! ” 

It was the voice of my friend Taplin that reached me one 
morning as we turned on our heels after saluting the officer 
of the day. 

“ Where to-day ? ” 

My friend hesitated, coloring slightly. 

“ I need not have asked,” continued I, observing that 
Taplin was embarrassed. 

“ Well — what of it ? One must find some way of killing 
time. The captive trains a spider, and why should not 
I ” 

“ Be a fly, caught by a Mexican tarantula ! Ay, caught, 
Charles Taplin — sober Charles Taplin ! ” 

“ Pshaw, captain I you’re crazed.” 


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A BRACE OF RUFFIAN SOLDIERS. 367 

“ Or you. Well, if we must go that way, it is time to be 
off. They will now be returning from the city. Vafpos I ” 

We struck a path into the chapparal, which, after wind- 
ing through the flowery glades, debouched upon the main 
road near Banderilla. We walked downhill in the direction 
of Jalapa, looking before us. At a bend in the road, where 
the trees hung over, we descried the objects we were in 
search of. They were an Indian family : an old and very 
reverend-looking man, two well grown girls, his daughters, 
and a quick, intelligent lad. Two or three donkeys and a 
huge dog of the San Bernard breed completed the group. 
The Indian himself was dressed in the leathern costume of 
the country, and carried over his shoulder the never-failing 
serape. The boy wore a similar garb, while the girls were 
tastefully attired in bright naguas and snowy chemisettes. 

There was something peculiar about this family. For 
many days we had met them journeying homeward from the 
market of Jalapa. We had been attracted at first by their 
quiet manners and their apparent domestic unity. We had 
met them several times without seeing the faces of the 
girls. They had worn their rebozos drawn, in the style 
termed “ tapado.” We at length saw them unveiled, and 
from that moment the interest of my companion was heigh- 
tened. It became a passion — it became love — a love, too, 
as ardent as it was sudden. 

He had fixed upon the younger as the object, though the 
two girls were very like each other. Both were, to say the 
least, of exceeding beauty, and would have attracted the at- 
tention of any other pair of idlers far less romantic than we. 
It was a style of beauty peculiar to the Aztec Indian — for of 
this race they were : aquiline features, with something of 
that expression which distinguishes the maidens of the 
Jewish race. Their eyes were Mongolian — oblique — and, 
as they are termed by novelists, “almond-shaped.” The 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


368 

rice-like rows of their teeth were partly concealed by lips of 
a purplish red, while the same hue, bursting through the 
silky bronze of their cheeks, imparted to them an appearance 
of extreme health. Their thick black hair, arranged in 
plaits, hung down behind, reaching far below the waist. 
These plaits were confined by gay ribbons, looped into 
tasteful knots at the end. 

Notwithstanding the interest which my companion and I 
had taken in this singular family, we had not yet succeeded in 
“ scraping up ” an acquaintance with them. We had got no 
farther than the exchange of a “ buenos dias ” and a few re- 
marks on the weather. 

“ I hope they will not run away from us to-day,” muttered 
Taplin, as we approached them. “ But they will, though. 
See the old fellow i — he’s moving already ! ” 

As my friend spoke I could see the Indian making a sign 
to his daughters. The latter rose from the bank on which 
they had been resting, drew their rebozos over their cheeks, 
like a pair of Persian beauties, and mounting their donkeys, 
a la Duchesse de Berri^ rode off. 

“ Buenos dias, ninas,^^ said my friend, with a vexed look 
as they passed. 

“ Buenos dias, caballeros,'^ was the reply ; and at the same 
moment the old Indian stalked up, saluting me with a wave 
of his broad sombrero, and a polite but significant “ adios,^^ 
which seemed to say, “We wish no further conversation at 
this time, gentlemen.” 

The boy, the remaining donkey, and the dog followed, 
while my companion and I turned back towards the -camp — 
Taplin, at least, suffering all the bitterness of disappointment. 

But my friend was resolved upon deserving success by 
perseverance. Again on the morrow we set forth from 
camp, directing our course as on former occasions. We fell 
into the main road and commenced descending. On nearing 


A BRACE OF RUFFIAN SOLDIERS. 369 

the bend where we were in the habit of meeting the Indian 
family, our ears were assailed with unusual sounds — screams 
and shouting. We heard the bark and “ worrying ” of a dog. 
We ran forward, in a few seconds rounding the angle of the 
road. The Indian and his family were before us. Two 
strange men — soldiers we saw — had seized upon the girls, 
and were endeavoring to force them into the thicket. One 
of the ruffians battled the dog — the San Bernard — with 
his bayonet, while with his other hand he clasped the terrified 
and trembling girl. The boy was fighting manfully to rescue 
his sisters, and the old Indian ran frantically over the road. 

My companion and I did not stay to contemplate a picture 
so unexpected, but dashed forward at once. We knew the 
men at a glance — two of the most disorderly rascals in the 
regiment. In a moment they were sprawling upon the 
ground, and it now required all our exertions to prevent the 
San Bernard from making a meal of them. They were at 
length secured with strong cords, which Pepe, the Indian 
lad, had furnished from his packing gear, handing them to us 
with a grin of satisfaction. 

Now, for the first time, my friend and I saw the two girls 
fairly unveiled. Their rebozos had been torn off in the 
' struggle, and they stood before us in all their wild, singular 
beauty, heightened in its effect by the carnation tinge which 
- the late excitement had lent to their cheeks. Their little 
bosoms heaved and fell, while their eyes were sparkling with 
mixed emotions of fear and gratitude. We stopped some 
moments to reassure our new acquaintances, for we deemed 
that we now had the title so to call them ; and then, placing 
our brace of ravishers at the points of our sabers, prepared 
to march them into camp. Taplin lingered and looked 
back. 

“ What is it ? ” I asked, seeing that something was troub- 
ling him. 

24 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


370 

“ I forgot that Indian’s son : he’s a sharp boy that, or 
I’m mightily fooled about him. I must give him a some- 
thing. Hola^ moochacher ? ” 

Taplin’s Spanish was none of the best, but it brought the 
boy with the others to a quick halt. 

“ Here, moochacher ; take this ” — and he held up a fine 
spring-knife. The boy came running.back, and with demon- 
strations of gratitude took the knife, and returned to the 
rest. 

“ It’s no harm to make a friend of that lad. Who knows 
how soon one may stand in need of a post ? ” 

Laughing at this odd act of providence on the part of my 
friend, we drove our prisoners before us, and shortly after- 
wards gave them in charge to the camp guard. 

Next morning, before the parade-drum had ceased rolling, 
we were far through the woods, on our way to the scene of 
our yesterday’s adventure. Taplin bounded forward, his 
heart filled with the expectancy of a most gracious recep- 
tion by our new friends. We reached the bend in the road 
where the trees hung over. They had not yet arrived. We 
seated ourselves upon the bank and waited. We rose again 
(Taplin all the while very impatient), and paced the cause- 
way up and down. They came not. We loitered until the 
hour of rain, and still they came not. 

“ What if they Come no more ? ” said Taplin, with a sigh. 

They came not on the morrow, nor again upon the mor- 
row (though still we waited and watched). 

“ They will come no 77iore''' said my friend, while his coun- 
tenance exhibited an air of deep dejection. 

This became our conviction at length. I can hardly de- 
scribe its effect upon myself, though from feelings far apart 
from love — much less can I picture that produced upon my 
companion. The circumstance of our daily “ waylaying ” 
the old Indian and his family was the only one connected 


A BRACE OF RUFFIAN SOLDIERS. 


371 


with our camp-life at Serena that possessed the least interest. 
We became worse emiuyeed than ever, and Taplin looked at 
times as if he contemplated suicide. The two soldiers did 
not benefit much by this state of feeling, on the occasion of 
their trial by court-martial, which followed soon after. Their 
backs were well scored by the cat-o-nine-tails, and their pay 
was stopped for a couple of months. 




Types of Indian Women. 



CHAPTER LVIII. 

A BRACE OF FOOLISH OFFICERS. 

T is of no use going 
down the road again,” I 
said to my friend, after 
many journeys made to 
no purpose. 

“ Come along — let us try once 
more,” answered he. 

“ Let us ride, then : we can 



procure a couple of mustangs.” 

“ Very well,” replied Taplin. 

The mustangs were soon upon the spot, and furnished 
with saddles and bridles. 

“ Up the road I ” cried Taplin, mounting, and spurring 
forward as if with a desperate desire to get clear of the 
camp. 

“ We cannot ride far up the road,” said I, closing in. 
“ There is danger beyond Banderilla ” 

“ Danger be d d 1 Come on, Hal ! ” shouted my com- 

372 


A BRACE OF FOOLISH OFFICERS. 373 

rade, stretching his mustang into a gallop. I did not com- 
prehend why Taplin wished to go up the road, but I did not 
oppose his inclination, and followed at his heels, determined 
to offer advice when my companion became more cool. 

We soon came to Banderilla. There is a posada at one 
end of the village, and a like posada at the other. These 
posadas were kept at the time by Frenchmen, who drove a 
good trade with the straggling soldiery. Their stock con- 
sisted chiefly of whisky and tobacco, both of the most 
wretched kind. In such miserable times, however, Taplin 
and I were not above taking a glass of whisky ; and, pull- 
ing up at the first posada, we drank one. Vile stuff it was 
and went to our heads like electric fire. 

We remounted, and galloped on to posada number two. 
Here we imbibed a second time. At this house they gave 
us a better article, which they kept in order to seduce the 
soldiers beyond the rival establishment. It was known as 
“ Catalan,” a species of Spanish brandy. 

After drinking it, I left Taplin at the bar, and stepped out 
look after our ponies. My friend soon followed, and handed 
me a flat, oval-shaped bottle, which he desired me to carry. 
I saw that it was filled with “ Catalan ” ; at the same time I 
saw Taplin thrusting the mate of it into an empty holster 
upon his saddle. 

“ Which way now ? ” I asked, as we sprang on horse- 
back. 

“ Up the road still. Come on, old boy ! Let’s make a 
day of it ! ” 

The two fiery drinks had made me quite as reckless as my 
companion, and I remember following him with the excla- 
mation : 

“ Here’s at you, then ! ” 

We had not heard, certainly, that there were guerilla corps 
in the neighborhood ; for since the advance of the Ameri- 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


374 

can vanguard these had gone further up the country to- 
wards the capital. We knew, however, that the peasantry 
had been exasperated by acts of outrage on the part of our 
straggling soldiers. Several of the latter were missing, and 
one or two had been murdered upon the very road we were 
traveling. The former might have deserted, and the latter 
had, no doubt, provoked and merited the fate that had be- 
fallen them. With these reflections, or rather without any 
reflection at all, we rode forward, far beyond the lines either of 
picket or patrol. Our hearts were buoyant and without 
fear. I cannot describe their buoyancy. We felt like men 
fresh escaping from a prison. For days we had looked 
abroad, and with longing eyes, over the beautiful country 
that surrounded our camp. We dare not traverse it. Our 
dragoons were few, and we were unable to keep the road 
open by our patrols. We had gazed, hour after hour, on 
the green hills and sunny slopes that girdle the bases of 
the great Cordillera ; we had seen the sun shining on 
many a bright object, and flinging his rays into the smiling 
valleys of Jalapa ; but we dared not venture into their shady 
dells. In our breasts had sprung up that mysterious feel- 
ing which has given rise to the common but truthful adage 
that “distance lends enchantment.” We longed to trav- 
erse those enchanted regions ; and now, suddenly realiz- 
ing that wish, our hearts beat with all the wildness of a full 
and unexpected gratification. Our relations to the scenes 
around us rendered it still more exciting. The denizens 
of these scenes were our enemies — our bitter, vengeful foes. 
Every step we took was fraught with danger, and this knowl- 
edge, playing upon our nerves, added to their wild and pas- 
sionate vibration. 

We reached San Miguel Soldado (St. Michael the Sol- 
dier), the beautiful parajt of the muleteers. We rode around 
the quaint old church, where it stands like a watch-tower, 


A Spanish Bull Fight in the City of Mexico. 




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A BRACE OF FOOLISH OFFICERS. 375 

overlooking the broad, palm-covered plains of the “ tierra 
caliente.^' We entered its plaza. 

San Miguel, we have said, is a paraje — a halting place 
for muleteers. An atajo had just arrived, and the arrieros 
were eating chichamnes in front of the inn. My companion 
and I had grown hungry ; the “ Catalan ” had sharpened 
our appetites. We could not witness the operation of eat- 
ing without a desire to join in it. We would dine at the 
fonda. What could they give us ? 

“ Chicharones y pafi ” (Bread and chicharones), was the 
answer. We could get eggs besides, and chilli peppers to 
our hearts’ content. 

“ Well, let us have them all,” cried Taplin, alighting from 
his horse. 

While dinner was waited for, we strolled about in front 
of the fonda, scanning the arrieros. There were many faces 
among them that we did not like, and particularly those of 
a small party of men who entered the town after us. There 
were five or six of these fellows in all, and we perceived that 
they kept apart in one corner of the fonda, whispering and 
making mysterious signs to each other. I thought they were 
not arrieros. Their costume was somewhat different. It 
bespoke men above the class of peasants, yet below that of 
gentlemen. They might be robbers or guerilleros. 

I whispered my suspicions to Taplin. 

“ Nothing like it — nonsense, captain ! They are some 
rancheros who have ridden into the town to buy chocolate 
for their wives and chingarito for themselves. Come ! take 
another ‘ swig ’ of the ‘ Catalan ’ before we start.” 

“ We shall then ride back to camp ? ” 

“No: first let us ascend that hill. You see where the 
road winds up it. From the top is a splendid view, I war- 
rant — something worth the trouble of climbing for. I like a 
good view,” 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


376 

“ Lead on, then ! ” 

We left San Miguel Soldado and its arrieros behind us, 
and wound up the National Road until we reached the sum- 
mit of the hill. Not far from this the road enters the pine 
woods, winding through steep and shady passes to the 
romantic hamlet of La Hoya. 

, My comrade was right in promising me a fair pros- 
pect from the hill. There are few such landscapes on 
the continent of America — few so interesting in the 
world. 

It was midday. The sun was in the zenith, and shining 
from a tropical sky. Below us, at our feet, lay the pictur- 
esque paraje of San Miguel, its painted cupola glistening 
brilliantly under the full sunbeams. So near did the little 
church seem to us, that it was difficult to conceive we had 
been riding from it for over an hour. In the gardens of the 
village, fair girls were plucking flowers, or making merry 
under the shadow of spreading trees. We could see the 
arrieros in the streets, as they buckled on their mule-packs, 
or led their jaded animals to the long watering-trough in the 
plaza. Further down we could descry the turrets and azoteas 
of Jalapa cresting the summit of an elevated hill. Beyond 
this, for forty miles, stretched the palmy plains of the 
“ tierra caliente^'' a brilliant picture of green and gold. The 
white walls of distant haciendas — the red tiled roofs of 
ranches — the domes and spires of churches, bearing upon 
their highest pinnacles the emblem of the Christian faith — 
could be distinguished far towards the eastern shores of 
Anahuac. Beyond all these rolled the Mexican Sea, glitter- 
ing like an ocean of liquid fire. It was one of the loveliest 
landscapes I have ever looked upon. The day was favor- 
able for viewing it. Perhaps the “ Catalan ’’ added to its 
loveliness by illusion. I cannot tell ; but I remember after- 
wards looking back on the same landscape, when on the 


A BRACE OF FOOLISH OFFICERS. 377 

“ route ” for the valley of Mexico, and I received from it at 
that time a far less sublime impression. 

I was sweetly dreaming over the fair panorama, directing 
my eyes towards a spot that interested me, when an exclama- 
tion from my comrade interrupted my reverie. I turned, and 
beheld him looking towards the left, in an attitude that be- 
tokened the interest he felt in some object. 

“ What are you gazing at ? ” I asked. 

“ Look yonder ! ” said he ; “ do you see that odd-shaped 
building on the brow of a great gulf — a barranca, I believe 
they call it ? ” 

“ Yes — what of it ? ” 

“ That’s one of their celebrated places — the birthplace of 
a great saint, though only a baby. You have heard of the 
‘ Nino de Atocha ? ’ ” 

I replied in the affirmative. I had heard of the “ Child of 
Atocha,” and had seen pictures and images of this remark- 
able saint in almost every Mexican cottage I had entered. 

“ Well, that’s where the holy boy was born. Come ! let 
us go there.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” I replied ; “ it’s ten miles from our road.” 

“ Not five, captain. Why, I could almost hit that queer 
old church with a bullet from my pistol.” 

“ But the risk, my dear friend ? ” 

“ Risk ! there’s none. There ain’t a fighting Mexican 
nearer than Orizava, where they are all collecting around 
old Santy. There’s not one on that side of the road, any- 
how. Come, captain I ” 

I should have used further arguments to dissuade Taplin 
from such a foolish excursion, but I knew him too well for 
that. A strange man he was — the rashest I ever saw in 
throwing himself into danger, yet, when once fairly in it, I 
never knew one who met it with greater coolness. His dar- 
ing courage had won my admiration. He had often proved 


378 THE RIFLE RANGERS. 

it. He had mounted his horse, shouldered his rifle, and 
ridden through the prairie-desert for hundreds of miles alone. 
He had done this more than once. They who have read 
the records of we*stern life will recognize his name, and the 
truth of my assertion. Having once made up his mind to a 
deed, nothing could dissuade him from attempting its execu- 
tion. I knew this, and I knew it was idle to expostulate 
with him now. 

“ Come, Hal,” he continued, “ it’s not far ; besides, it’s 
almost on our way. We can cut across the hill. I have 
often wished to go there. Harkye ! ” he added in a signifi- 
cant whisper, “ I’ve got an idea that our old Indian lives 
there.” 

I knew, from the manner in which Taplin said this, that 
he was resolved to go ; and had I refused to accompany 
him, he would have ridden off without me. I assented, 
therefore, to the proposition by turning my horse’s head in 
the direction pointed out by my friend. 

“ Let us take a pull at the ‘ Catalan ’ before we start,’^ 
said he, drawing the green bottle out of his holster. 

“ Agreed,” replied I, imitating him by uncorking the one 
which I myself carried. 

The liquor was soon quaffed, and, returning the bottles to 
their places, we struck into a narrow bridle-road that seemed 
to lead to the birthplace of “ the Child of Atocha.” 




CHAPTER LIX. 

“the child of atocha.” 

E followed this path for, I should think, a 
distance of more than five miles ; but the 
last pull at the “ Catalan ” must have been 
“ the rose-leaf on the brimming jar,” for I 
not remember much of the country we 
passed through. 

I can only recollect that it was but little inhab- 
ited, if at all. The road lay through woods and 
thickets, and the path was steep and hilly, appearing to zigzag 
more than any other I had ever traveled upon. At times 
our wiry animals seemed to stand upon their heads as 
we descended the sides of some narrow ravine. 



379 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


380 

“ We must be near it now,” said Taplin, as we climbed up 
out of a steep valley. “ Ugh ! bow dark it has grown ! We 
are going to catch a deluge of a shower ! ” 

My companion had scarcely made the remark when the 
black cloud that had been gradually gathering over the sky 
was split asunder by electric wedges, and detached masses 
began to float over us like huge birds of prey. 

The thunder rolled above our heads and around us, and 
then a heavy body of dark vapor commenced moving down 
the sides of the mountains, as if on its way carrying destruc- 
tion to the smiling valleys at our feet. 

Bright jets of flame shot to and fro, lighting up the opaque 
masses, followed by loud peals like the discharges of a 
heavy battery. These broke upon our ears at short inter- 
vals, rumbling off into the glens of the echoing hills. 

Another body of vapor came floating along, and the next 
moment we were enveloped in a mist that rivalled night in its 
mysterious darkness. My horse suddenly halted,with a snort. 

“ Ride on ! ride on ! ” cried Taplin, seeing that I blocked 
up the narrow path. 

“ Hold ! — for Heaven’s sake, pull back ! ” I screamed to 
my companion. “We are riding upon the brow of a preci- 
pice ! ” 

I had caught a glimpse of a fearful chasm beneath and 
directly before us, into which we were spurring our horses ! 
But for the sagacity of the animals, we might have ridden to 
death. 

“ Strike to the right ! ” cried Taplin, as he saw an opening 
in that direction. 

I drew my snorting horse away from the cliff, and headed 
him to the right. He commenced descending, but slowly 
and with instinctive caution, scenting the track as he went. 

The road led among low timber, and we were baffled with 
the branches. 



“ THE CHILD OF ATOCHA.” 381 

The storm now broke upon us in all its fury. There 
seemed to be no limit to the rage of the elements. Rain, 
wind, thunder, lightning, and cloud vied with each other as 
to which could produce the most terrific effects. The broad 
leaves, as we rode under them, flouted up and down, -and 
flapped spitefully in our faces. The branches cracked and 
broke around us, and in less than five minutes we were 
drenched to our shirts. 


Mexican Indians Preparing a Meal. 

We were almost in darkness, still enveloped by the thick, 
opaque volume of the mist. 

After struggling on for some time, the hoarse barking of a 
dog sounded in our ears ; and our horses, as if attracted by 
the signal, commenced moving in that direction. 

We soon cleared the mist, and on looking about we per- 
ceived that we were still on the edge of the precipice, but at 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


382 

a point where it was not so steep. Along its base we could 
discern a thick grove of tropical trees, and upon the broad 
wet leaves the sun was shining until they glistened like 
sheets of gold. 

We had suddenly stepped from storm to sunshine, though 
the wet and flouted leaves, with here and there a broken 
branch; told us that among them the elements had been at 
play. 

We were looking for a path to descend the cliffs, when a 
voice sounded upon our ears : 

“ Caballeros^ bajan por aca I ” (Come down this way, 
gentlemen.) 

It was a man’s voice. It reached us from below. 

We looked in the direction whence it came. We could 
distinguish the red tiles upon the roof of a cottage ; they 
appeared above the low trees. The voice must have pro- 
ceeded thence, but we could see no one ; our eyes were still 
weak from the blaze of the electric fire. 

The admonition was repeated ; and then, as if borne by 
some sweet echo, the words, “ Por aca I por aca I ” came ring- 
ing through the trees in the soft, silvery tones of a female voice. 

We now looked with more earnestness, shading our eyes 
from the sunbeam, and amidst the foliage we began to dis- 
tinguish moving objects. We could perceive the flutter of 
female dresses, while the voices kept urging us to descend. 
An animal rushed across an open glade below ; we recognized 
the brown, shaggy coat of the San Bernard. The next 
moment he came bounding up the zigzag path, and leaped 
joyfully before us. 

We descended by the same road, and at the bottom of the 
cliff were met by the old Indian and his family — the objects 
of our wild excursion. 

The busy Pepe seized the bridles of our horses, and led 
them off towards the ranche ; while the two girls, with all 


THE CHILD OF ATOCHA.” 383 

the fondness and familiarity of sisters, ran up to us, and, 
placing their hands upon our dripping garments, exclaimed : 

“ Ah, qiie pobres ! tan mojadaz ! ” (Ah, poor fellows ! so 
wet, too !) 

Led by our host and his daughters, we soon reached the 
ranche — a small structure of adobes, surrounded by a picket- 
like fence of the columnar cacti. In front of this enclosure 
we were met and welcomed by the mother of the family. 

Our wet garments became an object of solicitude ; but 
the quick-witted Pepe was already kindling a bunch of dry 
pine-knots under the trees outside the enclosure, and Taplin 
undertook to assist him. In a short time the fire blazed up ; 
and as the girls, by a sign from their mother, had entered 
the ranche, we drew up to the burning fagots, and entered 
into conversation with our Indian host. 

We soon learned the history of the simple old man. He 
lived by weaving petates from the leaves of the palmilla, or 
sombrero palm. He carried them to the plaza of J alapa. His 
children assisted him in his art. His daughters wove baskets 
from the fibers of the yucca — those pretty little baskets we 
admire so much in the bazaars. They prepared the reeds 
with their own hands, and stained them into the bright 
colors of red and blue and yellow. They carried them to 
Jalapa, where they were sold to the ricos, and also to mer- 
chants, who sent them beyond the sea. 

While listening to the old Indian, I could perceive that 
my friend Taplin’s heart was wholly within the cottage, upon 
the door of which his eyes were steadily fixed. The two 
bright little objects, Pepita and Ana, could be seen moving 
within ; they were evidently engaged in culinary operations 
I was struck with the extreme interest which my friend 
seemed to take in their movements. 

“ Which of them do you admire the more, Taplin ? ” I 
asked jokingly. 


384 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ The little one,” answered he, with a seriousness of man- 
ner that quite surprised me. 

I knew it was the little one, without asking the question. 
Extremes attract each other. Taplin himself stood six feet 
in his boots. 

“ I am glad it is so,” I replied ; “ we shall not be rivals. 
I admire the sister more.” 

“Sister? Not to compare, captain! Look yonder.” 
And with a smile of extreme admiration he pointed towards 
the little Ana, who at that moment appeared at the door of 
the cottage. 

“ Tell me, lieutenant,” said I, taking him by the arm and 
looking him in the face, “ would you marry her ? ” 

“ To-morrow, by Jove I ” was the emphatic reply. 

I began to believe that my friend was really in love. 
There was an earnestness in his manner that I had before 
observed in relation to other matters, and that, I knew, indi- 
cated some resolution already made. 

He was a man of just such a nature as to be interested in 
this peculiar way. The romantic wildness of his disposition 
fitted him for receiving an impression from just such a source, 
while the most flattered city belle might have fluttered her 
attractions before him in vain. 

I knew he was too honorable to act otherwise than as a 
gentleman should, and, seeing the profound impression 
which the little “ poblana ” had made upon him, I began to 
fear that our foolish adventure would terminate in something 
serious. 

For myself, I was but slightly interested — actuated solely 
by that undefinable impulse which I believe exists in the 
hearts of all men, and which impels them to approach the 
presence of loveliness as the iron atoms are drawn around 
the magnet ; actuated, too, by that common vanity which 
impels us to win, if we can, the smiles of universal beauty. 


“ THE CHILD OF ATOCHA.” 385 

But my heart was already in the keeping of another, and 
every hour was fraught with the sad foreboding that I might 
never more see its absent guardian. 

As I stood musing in this way, my attention was suddenly 
arrested by the clatter of hoofs that came ringing up the 
glen. The next moment a horseman galloped into the open 
space in front of the ranche, and with a quick jerk drew his 
horse to his haunches, halting him. 

He was a young man, dressed in the picturesque garb of 
a ranchero, though evidently above that class in social rank. 
His horse was sleek and fiery, his saddle richly mounted, 
and his huge spurs were of solid silver. The buttons on 
his jacket and calzoneros were of the same material ; and 
the manga, which hung rakishly over his shoulders, was of 
the finest cloth. He was not a mere ranchero : that could 
be seen at a glance. Who was he ? I whispered this query 
to our host. 

“ El dueno ” (The master), was the reply. 

“ Ha ! ” muttered Taplin ; “ the master ! ” My friend was 
doubtless chagrined, as I was myself, to know that there 
was a master. 

“ Master of what ? ” I asked, with some petulance of 
manner. 

“ Of the hacienda, senor. Don Juan is the owner of all 
these lands. Buenos dias, Don Juan ! ” added the Indian, 
saluting the newcomer with a degree of humility that vexed 
us. 

“ Buenos dias, viejo ” (Good day, old man), returned the 
other, with that haughtiness of manner which showed how 
little he valued the respect of his serf. 

“ Is the little Anita within ? ” he added, passing towards 
the house. 

Si, Don Juan, A su disjosidon'' (Yes, Don Juan. At 
your service)! 

»s 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


386 

“ I only wish to light my cigar and drink a glass of pinole.'^^ 

“ Esta bueno — esta bueno ” (Very well). 

The stranger had now reached the door, where he com- 
municated his wishes to the inmates of the cottage. Pres- 
ently Pepita, the elder and taller of the girls, came out with 
the glass of the pinole, while her sister carried in her hands 
a small brazero filled with live coals. 

We could hear Don Juan asking, “ Who are these 
strangers ? ” and the reply that we were officers from the 
American Camp at Serena. Then followed the expression, 
'‘'‘Carrai! malditos while the young man struck the flaps 
of his wide pantaloons with his leathern quirt in a violent 
and energetic manner. 

I looked at my friend, who, like myself, had been watching 
every movement of the newcomer. The veins of Taplin’s 
neck were swollen as the hot blood boiled upwards. His 
cheeks had turned pale, while the black circles had begun 
to form around his dark fiery eyes. The familiarity which 
the young hacendado seemed to take with the girls had roused 
his jealousy ; and it was plain, moreover, that the attentions 
of the Mexican were bestowed chiefly upon the younger 
sister. 

The elder, at length taking the empty glass, retired within 
the cottage, leaving Anita alone with the stranger, and still 
holding the brazero, that he might ignite his cigarrito. As 
they conversed in the porch, we could observe their move- 
ments minutely. At every action, on the part of the young 
man, that approached to familiarity, I could see Taplin, me- 
chanically as it were, raise his hand to the hilt of his saber. 

“ Come ! ” said I — “ keep cool, my friend. The young 
fellow means no harm. Let him have his scene out.” 

“ Harm ! ” ejaculated my comrade between his teeth. 
“ Only think of it ! He is her 7naster 

“ No 1 He is simply their landlord.” 


“ THE CHILD OF ATOCHA.” 


387 

“ And so — what can they not do here ? Buy them — sell 
them for a bushel of Indian corn or a bag of beans ! Any- 
thing — anything 1 ” 

The young girl was evidently ill at ease in the company 
of the sprig. He, on the other hand, seemed to take pleas- 
ure in his bravado courtship, glancing occasionally at us 
with a look of mock ferocity. When about to light his cigar 
for the fifth time, he bent forward over the brazero, and 
brought his lips in contact with the forehead of the girl. 
The latter drew back with an offended air. I turned to seize 
hold of Taplin. I was too late. He had already entered 
the enclosure with a single bound ; and, before I could inter- 
pose, he caught the Mexican by his manga, and swung him 
like a child against the prickly fence of cactus. The soft 
plants yielded with a crash, and the body of the Mexican 
passed out to the opposite side. 

“ Carajo ! maldito /” cried the latter, springing to his feet 
with a terrified but spiteful look. 

“ Take yourself off now, my spangled jay bird ! ” shouted 
Taplin, pointing to the woods. “ Off with you while you 
have got the hair upon your head ! Vamos / ” 

The hacendado, seeing the determined look with which the 
other approached him, seized the bridle of his horse, and, 
clambering into the saddle, disappeared without uttering an- 
other word. 

The old Indian was astounded at seeing his dueno — to 
whom he owed everything — thus roughly handled. Poor 
old fellow ! I felt vexed for him, and disposed to censure 
my friend for his passionate conduct. But there was an- 
other point to be considered. We were now under the risk 
of a real danger. We were far from camp, without knowing 
one foot of the road to it. We were both poorly armed ; 
our light parade swords, with a pistol apiece, were all the 
weapons we 4iad brought with us. The Mexican, strongly 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


388 

exasperated, would not rest until he had obtained his re- 
venge. He would be certain to collect his peons and return. 

I urged these facts upon my comrade, but to no purpose. 
He had drunk too much of the “ Catalan.” There were no 
guerilleros in the neighborhood — that he had ascertained 
from our host ; and he did not fear to meet scores of those 
unwarlike peons. Besides, they would not dare to ill-treat 
us so near our camp. They would fear a visit of retaliation 
from the Texas Rangers. He wound up by assuring the old 
Indian that, if Don Juan should give them the slightest 
trouble on our account, he would bring his own company — 
a regiment — the whole army to their rescue. He would 
harry the country until he should catch the “ dueno.” Such 
is love, maddened by drink and jealousy. 

At the time I was not myself sufficiently rational to care 
much for consequences. I had inverted the flat bottle once 
too often ; and, besides, our host had treated us to a cup of 
7nezcal — a species of fiery whisky manufactured from the 
magueys — and this had finished the job. Though not a 
very creditable thing — I must confess the truth — neither of 
us was sober enough for the circumstances in which we were 
placed. We were not, either of us, drinkers by habit, but 
escaping as we had done from our camp-prison, we had sur- 
rendered ourselves up to the natural reaction of animal 
spirits. I can offer no further extenuation. 

* * * * * 

I remember that we dined sitting cross-legged upon petates, 
our host and his family waiting upon us, for they had eaten 
dinner before our arrival. I remember, after dinner, again 
urging on Taplin the necessity for taking our departure. 
No! He would wait to see the girls at their occupation. 
He would like to take a lesson in basket-weaving ; and from 
this fancy I in vain endeavored to divert him. So we sat 
i&r -hours, watching their little fingers weaving in the bright 


“the child of atocha.” 389 

fibers of the palmilla ; Taplin, all the while, stretched at the 
feet of his mistress, entertaining her with stories of Yankee- 
land and the prairies, and once in a while venturing some 
expressions of a more endearing interest. I believe now, as 
I thought then, that the man really loved this little Indian 
belle — and, moreover, that he had succeeded in interesting 
her. Once or twice I saw her stealing upon him timid but 
fond glances, with that expression of confidence and respect 
which weak women instinctively yield to the courage that 
can protect and avenge her. Poor fellow ! he never saw her 
again. But I anticipate. 

****** 

The red rays, as they slanted through the interstices of 
the cacti, admonished us that the sun was going down. We 
had become more rational, and prepared to set forth. Our 
horses were led up by Pepe, who had volunteered to guide 
us through the barranca — a difficult and dangerous pass 
through which our road lay. 

We offered money, which was refused with much delicacy. 
“ Presents, then,” thought we ; and, releasing our fingers of 
their golden circlets, we begged permission to leave them as 
tokens of remembrance. These were accepted ; and with 
tender adieus, and . promises (made in all sincerity by one of 
us at least) to return, we mounted our mustangs, and com- 
menced descending the valley. 



CHAPTER LX. 

THE BARRANCA. 

E rode for some time in 
silence, allowing our 
horses to follow Pepd 
and the dog, which 
trotted nimbly before us. The 
ravine down which we traveled 
was fast shadowing into darkness. 
The approach of sable night has 
a gloomy effect on the wildest adventurers. My comrade 
was silent and abstracted. He rode some time in the rear. 
After we had journeyed a mile or so in this way, he spurred 
up alongside, with the exclamation : 

“ Here, Hal ! ” 

“ Well ? ” I inquired, seeing he was about to unburden 
himself. 

“ I think 1 have done wrong in meddling with that nigger. 
It may get them into trouble.” 

390 



THE BARRANCA. 


391 


“ Has that occurred to you only now ? ” 

“ By Thunder ! if it does,” added he, gritting his teeth, 
“ I shall know it, too. The boy has promised to come to 
camp, and often. We shall hear all that passes, and if the 
Ha ! ” 

I turned in my saddle to discover the cause of this last 
exclamation, which was uttered in a sharp, excited tone. 
Taplin was holding up the flap of his left holster, which had 
contained his pistol. The holster was empty ! 

“ Good Heavens ! ” I exclaimed, hastily raising my own ; 
“ our pistols are gone ! ” 

We looked at each other, without expressing by words 
what each knew the other understood — that ive were in danger. 
Our pistols had been stolen, and by whom ? We called 
Pepe. The boy knew nothing of them. . Had he seen them 
at all.? No. Had he looked into the holsters, and when? 
Yes, just after our arrival, and previous to the appearance 
of Don Juan. And what did they contain ? — “ Dos botellas — 
nada mas ” (Two bottles — nothing more). 

“ When did you notice them last, Hal ? ” asked my com- 
rade. 

“Not since ” A thought struck me. “ Now I know 

where the pistols are gone. You remember those ill-looking 
fellows at San Miguel ?' They have taken them while we 
were eating our chicharones in the fonda.” 

“ Precisely so : that is where we lost them — fools that we 
have been ! still, it is better than if they had been stolen 
from us at the ranche. It looks less like present danger.” 

“ True enough ; nevertheless, we had better be on our 
guard.” 

“ On our guard ! and with what ? We have nothing left 
but these skewers, and they are handy enough for all the 
good they may do us. The devil take that ‘ Catalan’ ! ” 

The road now entered a deep gorge in the hills, through 


392 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


which a torrent was dashing, brown and swollen with the 
late rain. The path lay along the stream, but gradually ris- 
ing above the level of its bed, until the hissing, roaring 
water was heard far beneath — a hundred toises beneath — 
and apparently under our very feet. The path itself seemed 
to have been carved out of the face of the cliff : for high 
overhead rose frowning, precipitous walls, jaggy and naked, 
except where from seams and fissures hung branches of 
stunted cedar or clusters of the thorny cacti. Below the 
road the trees were more numerous and larger, straggling out 
horizontally from the rocks, down to the margin of the stream. 

The road was Mexican in all its characteristics, and could 
be traveled by no animal less sure-footed than a mule or a 
mustang, either of which can rival a cat in climbing. Here 
and there huge masses of amygdaloid had fallen from the 
overhanging cliff, and rested upon the path in such a manner 
that, apparently, the strength of a child could have toppled 
them over. Around and over these it was necessary for us 
to clamber, sometimes squeezing ourselves through a crack 
hardly big enough to admit the bodies of our mustangs. 
We were lacerated, too, by the wild magueys, whose long, 
serrated leaves, straggling across the path, hooked into our 
clothes, and almost dragged us out of our seats. This was 
the barranca about which our Indian host had cautioned us, 
and he had not exaggerated its fearful reality. I have seen 
many such places, but none, to the best of my memory, that 
looked wilder or more gloomy than this. It was called, in 
the language of the country, “ Puerto del Infierno^' “ The Gate 
of Hades ! ” and well did it seem to merit the appellation. 

As if to add to the desolation around us, the moon became 
suddenly obscured ; and, just as we were fairly within the 
jaws of the chasm, the storm recommenced in all its fury. 
The wind whistled in our faces and roared along the cliff. 
The shadowy pines rocked and cracked under the blast, and 


THE BARRANCA. 


393 

the cold rain came pouring down in pailfuls. The thunder 
seemed to burst forth from the caverned cliffs under our 
feet; and the electric blazes, almost continual, lighted up 
the scene with a fearful distinctness. 

We kept on — it was no use halting in a spot so exposed 
to the tempest — guided by the boy, who leaped from rock to 
rock with the nimbleness of a goat. He carried his shining 
hat in his hand, and we could perceive it glistening like a 
meteor before us as he waved us onward. We could hear 
him, too, far above the thunder, in his sharp voice warning 
us against any place of peculiar danger. This wild boy 
seemed to exult in his office, and to be at home in the midst 
of its perils. As he leaped and danced over the ledges in 
front of us, with his dark, animated features — his long hair 
streaming in the wind — his garb, like himself, strange and 
wild — at the same time screaming back in his shrill Aztecan 
voice — he seemed to be part of the storm itself — one of its 
demons. The dog kept on at his heels, following the per- 
ilous track with more seeming difficulty than the boy himself. 

As though the storm had been sent specially to annoy us 
while we were passing the barranca, it commenced lulling 
away as we debouched on the other side. 

We could not now be far from camp ; but the darkness was 
opaque, and we descended the rough road but slowly. The 
lightning grew less frequent and less vivid. By the hoarse 
roaring of the torrent, which now sounded in our ears, we 
knew we were again approaching the bottom of the valley. 

This we soon reached, striking the bank of the stream, 
along which the road trended for some distance downward. 
Here the timber was heavy, and the branches locked over- 
head, adding darkness and gloom to the night. The road, 
too, was smooth and clayey, and our horses slipped and 
sprawled as we went. 

Once or twice, as the lightning flashed, I thought I 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


394 

noticed horse-tracks in the mud. Taplin, too, had observed 
them, and sat in his saddle, bent and waiting for the next 
flash, that he might examine them more minutely. It came 
— a vivid and protracted blaze ; and before it had darkened 
again the voice of my companion struck on my ear, exclaim- 
ing : 

“ Fresh, by Jupiter ! and thick as sheep-feet ! ” 

“ You think they are fresh ? ” 

“ I am sure of it — since the rain. There again ! — look ! 
The mud hasn’t settled yet. They have passed within five 
minutes. Fifty, if there’s one ! Look there ! We’re in 
for it, comrade ! ” 

“ Hush ! ” said I ; “ speak low. They can’t be far ahead 
of us.” 

As I whispered this admonition, the dog, which, along 
with Pepe, was crawling through the mud close to our horses’ 
heads, began to run round and whimper. Then, with a 
fierce growl, he dashed forward into the underwood, and 
commenced barking loudly. I heard my comrade’s voice 
shouting hurriedly : 

“ By thunder ! we’re among them ! Dismount, Hal, and 
take to the bushes — it’s our only chance ! Come ! ” 

I heard him, at the same instant, come down with a heavy 
plash, as he vaulted from his horse. 

I was preparing to follow his example when a wild yell 
rang in my ears ; a heavy object dropped behind me on the 
croup, a pair of strong arms encircled me, and I was held 
as if in the embrace of a bear ! My animal, frightened, 
sprang forward — then stopped, endeavoring to rear upwards, 
as though some one held him by the bit. 

I struggled to free myself from my powerful antagonist. 
We rolled together to the ground. Several others flung 
their bodies upon me. I was overpowered and bound ! 

The lightning flashed. The road was filled with men— 


THE BARRANCA. 395 

savage-looking men. They were yelling and brandishing 
their naked weapons, that glistened in the blue blaze. 

The lightning flashed again. I caught a glimpse of my 
comrade, with a number of men around him. He was lying 
in the mud. I thought there was blood upon his face. I 
thought he was dead ! 

“ Taplin ! ” I shouted with all my strength, so as to be 
heard above the din. 

“ Well, old fellow I How are you off for ropes ? ” was the 
reply. 

“ Thank Goodness ! ” I exclaimed. “ Not yet, then. He 
lives ! ” 

At the same time, I could not help wondering at the fear- 
ful coolness of this man, jesting under such circumstances. 

The confusion now began to subside. Our captors had 
nearly yelled themselves hoarse. One, who appeared to 
be their leader, ordered silence, and issued some directions 
in an undertone. I was seized by a number of men — so 
was my companion — and dragged back to an opening in the 
woods, where a large number of horses were tied to the trees. 

“ Fuego f ” cried the man in authority ; and in a few 
seconds dry sticks were collected into a pile and set on Are. 

As the blaze brightened we looked around upon our foes. 
At the first glance I recognized the brilliant habiliments of 
the hacendado, Don Juan, who stood apart, conversing with 
him who acted as leader. The others were no peons— that 
was plain. They were all armed and equipped, though each 
of them differently from his companion, and most of them 
rudely. Their horses carried escopettes strapped to the sad- 
dles, and many of them were mounted with military holsters. 

We had fallen into the hands of a new guerilla ; and on 
scanning their faces more closely I easily recognized some of 
the ill-favored physiognomies we had noticed at San Miguel 
in the morning. But what caused my comrade and myself 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


396 

to open our eyes wider than ever was the appearance in 
front of the fire of two men dressed in the uniform of our 
own regiment. 

“ More prisoners ! ” thought we. 

We were speedily disembarrassed of the thought, when 
one of the men took a lighted brand from the fire, and, com- 
ing towards us, exclaimed : 

“ Let’s see who the divil yez arr, anyhow.” 

“ Lanty of my company ! ” muttered Taplin, as they ap- 
proached. “ Oh, the infamous scoundrel ! ” 

“ Vogel of mine ; that villainous Prussian ! ” And the 
next moment the would-be ravishers stood over us. 

We were soon recognized, and with joy on the part of the 
deserters. 

“ Och ! blood-an’-ouns ! ” began the Irishman, slowly 
measuring his words ; “ Mis — ther Tap — lin, is it there ye 
arr ? Mis — ther Lif — tin — ant Taplin, is it there ye are ? 
Och ! ” 

“ Was ! ” cried the Prussian, addressing me in his guttural 
grunt, that sounded like the voice of some demon of the 
Hartz — “ Was ! mein lieber Herr^ sind Sie es ! Mein Gott, it 
ish goot I" 

“ Och ! Misther Taplin,” continued the Irishman, still 
apostrophizing my companion, “ wud yez jist ordher me to 
be gagged and ‘ bucked,’ or sintince me to thirty-nine on 
the bare back, well laid on^ for givin’ ye this nate little salute 
acrass yer purty face ? ” And so saying, the deserter struck 
his officer over the cheek with his open palm. 

The blow was not a heavy one. It was intended more to 
give insult than bodily pain, and it certainly had the desired 
effect. Taplin’s eyes appeared as if they would leap out of 
their sockets. His whole frame quivered with emotion ; 
though he made no reply, knowing that that would only 
provoke further insult. 


THE BARRANCA. 


397 

The German, who was equally spiteful in his inclinations 
towards me, bent over me, as I supposed, for the purpose of 
making a similar demonstration. 

I was mistaken. He had stronger passions than revenge 
to gratify. After glancing cautiously around, to see whether 
any one observed him, he caught hold of the chain attached 
to my gold repeater ; and with an adroit jerk, that showed he 
was no novice at the business, drew the watch from its fob. 
Then snapping the guard asunder, he stealthily deposited 
the spoil under his own jacket. Lanty had noticed the ac- 
tion, and speedily, though more clumsily, performed a similar 
pantomime over my comrade. 

Several of the guerilleros had by this time gathered 
around us, curious to witness the interview between the de- 
serters and their prisoners. By these gentry we were im- 
mediately relieved of our loose silver ; and our swords, belts, 
and spurs were unbuckled, and appropriated by our captors. 

We now thought they had finished robbing us, as they 
had completely stripped us of our trimmings ; but we rea- 
soned erroneously. 

“ By Jaysus, Vogel ! ” said Lanty, turning to the German, 
and pointing to the latter’s ragged uniform, “ it’s yerself 
that’s not too finely drissed. That’s a nate coat of the kyap- 
tin’s. Wuditfitye?” 

“ Gott verdamme mich / — dat ish goot idea,” replied the 
other. 

‘‘I’m not in castume for a tay-party meself; but, with 
Misther Taplin’s lave, I hope to make a betther apparence 
directly. The liftinant’s just my size to an inch.” 

Here Vogel made a sign, pointing towards the leader of 
the guerilla. 

“ Oh yis,” assented the Irishman, with a nod. “ We’ll ax 
him ; but we must first obtane the ‘ consint of the officers,’ 
you know.” 


398 THE RIFLE RANGERS. 

This last was said in an ironical imitation of camp 
phraseology. 

— -ja / ” responded the German. 

“ Do the thing dacent and sodger-like. Well, Misther 
Taplin, well yez swap ayqual, or div ye want boot ? I can 
recommind this unyform. It’s owld, and has seen sarvice, 
as ye persave ; but it’s mighty cool for this hot climate. 
Them tails only hampers ye. The jacket’ll be a hape 
handier among the chapparals, de ye see ? Now, phwat div 
yez say to the swap ? ” 

Of course there was no reply. 

“ Silence gives consint ; he agrays to it. Now, Vogel, 
it’s your turn to thrade with the kyaptin.” 

Vogel, thus appealed to, addressed himself to me, going 
through a somewhat similar formula, but in a barbarous 
mixture of language that no one on the ground understood 
except himself. This being concluded, and my “ consint ” 
having of course been obtained, the Irishman left us, and 
walked towards the leader of the guerilleros, who, with the 
hacendado and two or three others, still stood apart con- 
versing. 

I could see the deserter pointing to us as he addressed 
them. He and his comrade might justly claim the favor 
he was asking, for to their strength (they were both power- 
ful men) the guerilleros were mainly indebted for our easy 
capture. We thought, at the time, there had been some- 
thing more than Mexican arms around us in the struggle on 
the road. 

In a few minutes the man returned, and, assisted by 
Vogel and several Mexicans, commenced stripping us. Our 
hands were first untied. Then our coats — blue undress 
frocks they were — were pulled off. The filthy tattered 
jackets of the deserters were drawn upon our arms. We 
made no resistance to this, as it was cold, and we knew, if 


THE BARRANCA. 


399 


if we objected to wearing the jackets, they would leave us in 
our shirts. Our wrists were rebound and our ankles set 
free. Then the pantaloons (and even our boots and stock- 
ings) were stripped off, and replaced by the coarse, ragged 
overalls of Vogel and the Irishman. Our stocks and forage- 
caps were snatched away, and we were left bareheaded — 
barefooted, too ; for, although our boots were too small for 
the deserters, two of the Mexicans (who are a small-footed 
race) appropriated them, without giving us theirs in ex- 
change. 

In a few minutes Lanty and Vogel were dressed up in our 
despoiled habiliments, vaporing over the ground in a 
tragic gait, and addressing each other as “ Kyaptin Vogel,” 
and “ Liftinant Lanty.” This they did to the great amuse- 
ment of the guerilleros. 

The leader of the band, with the hacendado, had now 
drawn near us. I could hear a portion of their conversation. 
I learned that the guerilla did not belong to the neighbor- 
hood, but was a spy-party that had been sent by Santa Anna 
from Orizava. They had arrived that morning, and it was 
their advance we had met in San Miguel. After the occur- 
rence at the ranche, Don Juan had come across them, and, 
gladly availing himself of the opportunity for revenge, led 
them on our track. 

I found out, moreover, that it was their design to take us 
to San Andres Chalcomulco. Here the leader expected to 
meet Santa Anna, on his way from Orizava to La Puebla. 

All at once the attention of the spy chief was attracted to 
the strutting deserters ; and, whispering some words to Don 
Juan, he beckoned them to follow him to the other side of 
the glade. The men obeyed, and walked after him. An 
earnest conversation followed. The Irishman could speak 
Spanish. He was a deserter from the Anglo-Canadian army, 
and had formerly served in Spain in Evans’s legion. 


400 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


After awhile it became evident that some plan had been 
matured. Lanty and Vogel were brought up to the light of 
the fire. Their dresses were inspected. Our swords (which 
had been appropriated by others of the spies) were taken 
from them and buckled upon the deserters. Our horses 
were led forth, and upon these the metamorphosed soldiers 
were mounted and rode off in the direction of the American 
camp ! 

My comrade and I were then taken up, and tightly corded 
upon a pair of saddled mules. 

A few notes of a bugle summoned the stragglers, and the 
next moment we were moving in single file back through the 
barranca. 




CHAPTER LXI. 


A DEATH-STRUGGLE. 



H ETHER it was that we were 
now more reckless of conse- 
quences, the backward journey 
through this fearful pass seemed 
far less difficult and dangerous. The 
storm was not raging to baffle us, it 
was now pitchy dark, the lightning only 
flashing at intervals; but the animals all followed some 
guide, who was, doubtless, well acquainted with the path. 

On the side nearest the ranch, and about a mile from tfie 
latter, there was a road crossing the one upon which we 
traveled. One fork of this road led to the hacienda of 
Don Juan, about three miles distant. The other traversed 
the hills, debouching at San Miguel Soldado. They were 
6 401 



402 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


only bridle-roads at best, and bordered on both sides by 
woods and chapparal. Here our captors, halted, and we 
heard the following dialogue : 

“ You will not go to my house, then, captain ? ” 

The question was put by the young hacendado, and ad- 
dressed to the spy-chief. 

“ I thank you, Don Juan: it would be too much out of 
my way. The old ranche here will cover most of us, and a 
night in the woods is no new thing. The general may leave 
Orizava to morrow, and I must meet him in San Andres. 
His movements may depend on what these fellows ” 

Here the speaker’s voice sank to a whisper, and we could 
not catch the remainder of the sentence. 

“ Very well,” cried the other, spurring his horse forward. 
“ I shall send you some refreshment as soon as possible. 
Fa con Dios, y mueran los Yankees!" (God be with you, 
and death to the Yankees ! ) 

And amidst the “ vivas ” of the troop at this patriotic 
ebullition, the young man wheeled into the cross-road and 
galloped off. 

Near the crossing was a deserted and half-ruined rancho, 
afmost buried in the underwood. On approaching this the 
guerilleros dismounted, the chief, with several others, going 
into the house. My comrade and myself were waiting to be 
taken inside. We expected our captors to accommodate us 
with the hospitality of a roof, less with a view to our comfort 
than for our safe keeping. To our surprise, this idea did 
not seem to strike them. We were thrown upon the ground 
in an open spot in front. We were firmly tied, however, 
hamds and heels ; and watched by a couple of sleepless-look- 
ing ruffians, who walked in circles round us, with their car- 
bines thrown carelessly over their arms. Our enemies had 
no apprehensions of our making any attempt to escape. 

The horses of the guerilla were picketed all around us, 


A DEATH-STRUGGLE. 403 

their long lariats enabling them to crop the grass up to the 
spot where we lay. 

We were placed upon our backs, and remained for some 
time in this position without conversing. We watched the 
thick clouds as they floated in masses along the lead-colored 
sky, at intervals illlumined by a vivid flash. 

After awhile several men arrived with mules and pan- 
niers, carrying provisions. These last were taken within the 
ranche, and shortly after we could hear the guerilleros feast- 
ing and making merry. A bottle of aguardiente had reached 
the hands of our two guards, and they passed it from one to 
the other with a degree of frequency that soon began to 
render them, as we thought, less watchful. But it mattered 
little. We had writhed and twisted until our wrists were 
peeled with our vain exertions. Our fastenings were thongs 
of raw hide, and these had been tied by Mexicans. We found 
that we could neither stretch a knot nor untwist a single 
strand, and we gave it up m despair. 

“ How easily we might do it, but for these accursed 
ropes! ” muttered Taplin, as he wrenched and struggled to 
no purpose. 

Since our capture we had seen nothing of the Indian boy. 
He had not appeared in the glade, nor on the road. What 
had become of him ? Now, for the first time, it occurred to 
me that the boy had betrayed us. 

Taplin endeavored to combat the suspicion. He alleged 
his previous friendly conduct to himself. Moreover, the 
boy had told him of ill-feeling which he himself bore towards 
the hacendado, who on some occasion had given him the 
whip. To suspect him was a painful thought to my com- 
rade, who had taken a liking for the lad, partly on account 
of his eccentric peculiarities, but more, I should think, from 
the accident of his relationship to the little Anita. 

“ I can’t think it,” said he, after a long silence, in which 


404 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


he had been considering every feature of the case. “ No; 
the boy would not have taken the dog along, had he in- 
tended to betray us. Poor brute ! it warned us, though too 
late it was. No ; the lad’s all right. He was frightened, 
and ran back home.” 

I could not admit the force of my friend’s argument in 
favor of our late guide. His strange and eccentric behavior 
along the route, his present mysterious absence, and (now 
occurring to our minds) the unexplained disappearance of 
the pistols, all combined to convince me that the Indian had 
“ sold ” us. 

I was about declaring my conviction to my friend when 
I felt a damp, cold object touch me on the cheek. I started, 
and, half raising myself upon my elbow, looked round to 
discover the cause. 

It was nearly pitch dark, but I could see a shadowy form 
move off and stoop over the head of my companion, who lay 
several feet from me. He, ^oo, startled as I had been, raised 
himself to look up, uttering the involuntary interrogation : 

“ What the mischief was that ? ” 

A low whimper answered the question. It was the 
dog! 

The animal again returned to me, placing his nose to my 
face as before, and wagging his bushy tail in token of friend- 
ship. I addressed him by name, but in a whisper, as an 
indefinite thought that moment crossed my mind that the 
boy might be near ; and I felt a sudden but equally indefi- 
nite hope. 

I cautioned Taplin to keep still. The electric light 
gleamed, and to my surprise I noticed that the dog held a 
shining object between his teeth. I saw it distinctly It 
was a knife — the one that Taplin had given to the lad ! 

My comrade had observed it at the same time, and ejacu- 
lated rashly : 


A DEATH-STRUGGLE. 


405 


“ Hurrah ! the dog’s got my old knife ! ” 

“ Hush 1 ” I repeated. 

The animal ran back to Taplin, and then returned to me 
again. He seemed to wonder why we lay so still. 

I had by this time fathomed the design for which he had 
been sent. Poor brute ! he knew nothing of it. I was filled 
with wonder at the cunning artifice, but that was no time to 
express it. As he held up his nose I seized the projecting 
point of the knife — it was the blade, which was open — in 
my teeth, and held firmly. Only for a moment. The animal, 
perceiving my intention to rob him of the weapon, plucked 
it away, slightly wounding my lip ; and then, as if angry, ran 
off, disappearing in the darkness. 

“ What a pity ! ” ejaculated Taplin, who had rolled nearer, 
and witnessed the failure. 

We had hardly time to exchange our regrets when the 
dog reappeared, but the knife was gone. No ! It was hang- 
mg fro7n his neck f 

This time he ran first to my comrade, who attempted to 
seize the weapon with his teeth, but was unsuccessful, as the 
dog had grown shy and playful. 

“ Ho, perrito ! Loro, ho ! ” 

I whispered these words in an endearing tone of voice. 
He closed nearer and nearer, until, with a desperate stretch, 
I succeeded in getting the string between my teeth, deter- 
mined to hold it though it should drag them out. The 
thong broke, and the knife fell upon the grass, directly 
under my face. 

“ Scold off the dog ! ” I whispered ; and at the word 
Afuera/^' uttered in a tone of anger, the animal galloped 
away to those who had sent him. 

During all this scene our sentries, who had flung them- 
selves on the ground at a few paces’ distance, were busy 
with their bottle and sandwiches, and had not thought of us. 


4o6 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ If they will only give us five minutes more ! '’ I whis- 
pered to my companion. “ Shift yourself a little more this 
way ; turn your back upward — so, so.” 

We were tied with our hands behind our backs, and of 
course could only relieve one another. My companion, as 
I had desired him, turned over and lay upon his face. I 
rested my chin upon his back, having already caught the 
blade of the knife between my teeth, holding it edge out- 
ward. I then brought the edge in contact with the raw hide, 
and commenced moving my head horizontally backward and 
forward, sawing the thongs. 

After a few vibrations my ear was gratified by the “ snig ” 
of the parting cord. I had cut the right turn, upon which 
was the knot, and after a wrench or two my comrade’s hands 
were free. A score of seconds sufficed to make the re- 
mainder of our fastenings fly off, though we operated silently 
and with caution. 

It now remained for us to reach the thicket, which was 
not twenty yards from us ; and we waited for the next flash, 
so that we might have the whole of the dark interval that 
followed. 

Our two guards had been joined by a third, who had 
brought them a fresh bottle of aguardiente; and the three 
sat together on the grass, drinking and talking merrily. 

The lightning gleamed again. It was our cue ; and, 
crawling like a pair of gigantic lizards, we succeeded in 
getting behind some horses, where we lay, with beating 
hearts, to wait for another blaze. 

This came at length, and, rising to our feet, we ran lightly 
to the edge of the chapparal. The dog bounded forward to 
meet us, and the next moment I saw my companion lift 
some one in his arms, whom he kissed with the wildness of a 
maniac. It was Pepe— that strange, wild boy, to whose 
cunning we were indebted for our escape. 


A DEATH-STRUGGLE. 


407 


There was no time to be lost. We must get through the 
pass again before our pursuit commenced. We needed our 
guide no longer ; we now knew the way through the bar- 
ranca, and beyond it we were near the village of Banderilla. 
If pursued, we could hide in the bushes, favored by the 
darkness of the night. The dog might betray us in such a 
case. We would be better alone. 

With these considerations, we dismissed the lad, who, 
taking the San Bernard along with him, returned on the road 
that led to the ranche. We, on the other- hand, crept 
stealthily, but with haste, along the path leading to the bar- 
ranca. 

We soon entered the gloomy gorge, and commenced climb- 
ing up. All around us was darkness and silence, for the 
storm had lulled to the dead calm. Still, there was light 
at intervals to illuminate the terrible features of the chasm. 

The lightning still played through the black masses over- 
head, but without the usual accompaniment of thunder. This 
is a common occurrence in the atmosphere of the tropics. 
The blazing fluid at times covered the whole country, light- 
ing the world with a brilliancy that rivaled the sun ; and 
the next instant every object was hidden in the obscurity of 
an amorphous darkness. 

Through this we groped and crept onward up the pass. 
It was the third time for us on that same night, and we had 
become acquainted with the difficulties of the track. When 
uncertain how to proceed, we halted and waited for the next 
flash of lightning. 

Advancing in this way, we had reached the highest point 
of the road, where it runs over a ledge of the precipice. Here 
the path is narrow, in consequence of rocks having fallen 
upon the ledge. The road abuts over the stream, and an 
object dropped from above would fall directly into the water. 
Below us, at least a thousand feet, the torrent foamed 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


408 

and seethed, and the “ sough ” sounded like the voice of 
some distant waterfall. When the lightning lit up this hell- 
like chasm, we felt giddy and irresolute ; for the path before 
us, as it wound along the ledge, seemed suspended in the 
air. 

We were barefoot, and perhaps this was better for us. 
It enabled us to take a firmer hold, though our feet were 
scarred and cut by the sharp rocks. Taplin was fore- 
most. 

Just then I thought I heard voices, and stopped for a 
moment to listen. It might be the pursuers upon our track. 
I listened attentively, but could not hear them again. It 
must have been the water talking below us, and with this 
conviction I hastened after my companion. There was 
a small platform where the road turned sharp round the 
cliff. I remembered entering it when we passed in the 
early part of the night. It might have been three or four 
yards wide and was formed by an indentation in the cliff, 
where some mass of rock had given way and fallen down- 
ward. Taplin had ascended this platform, and was stand- 
ing upon it to await me. I saw his tall figure outlined 
against the sky as I climbed up. I noticed that he stooped 
suddenly, placing himself in the attitude of one listen- 
ing. 

“ Do you hear anything ? ” I asked, as I came alongside. 

“ Hush ! hush ! listen ! By the Lord ! it is — hish — sh — 
sh 1 ” And, holding each other by the arm, we backed in 
silently under the shadow of the projecting cliff. 

There were voices. There was the stroke of a horse’s 
hoof ; and the next moment two horsemen rode up on the 
ledge and halted. We could see them but indistinctly ; and 
in the uncertain darkness they loomed against the sky like 
mounted giants. Who could they be ? They were not our 
pursuers. They had come from the opposite direction — 


A DEATH-STRUGGLE. 409 

that in which we were going. Who could they be ? The 
lightning 

“ Ha ! villains ! renegades ! ” shouted Taplin, springing for- 
ward — “ now we shall see ” 

The blaze of pistols followed the flashing of the lightning, 
and I could see both the horsemen fling themselves from 
their saddles at once. The horses turned and ran off the 
ledge, leaving the ground clear for our double combat. I 
saw Taplin grappling with one adversary. I sprang upon 
the other. A sword gleamed in my eyes. I caught the 
blade in my hands and broke it. The German oath that 
followed told me who was my antagonist. We clutched and 
rolled over on the ledge. We were both without arms ; and 
it was now a contest of strength — who could pitch the other 
over the cliff ! The fearful fate that threatened the weaker 
nerved both of us to desperation, and we struggled upon the 
brink, griping each other like madmen. We rose to our feet 
again, were about closing for another death- wrestle, when 
my antagonist, seemingly struck with a sudden fear, shied to 
one side, and, leaping down from the platform, disappeared 
in the darkness. 

Glad to get rid of him on these terms, I did not attempt 
to follow, but prepared to assist my comrade, who during 
all this time had been engaged in a similar conflict with the 
Irishman. As I turned suddenly round, the blue flash of 
the lightning illumined a picture that sent the blood rushing 
through my heart. On the extreme edge of the precipice 
were the two uniformed figures — the soldier and his officer. 
The latter was hanging almost horizontally over the brink, 
while his adversary, firmly planted, seemed in the act of 
shaking him from his last hold. Before the sky darkened 
again I saw the tattered rags give way — a wild scream echoed 
along the cliff — Taplin was hurled into eternity ! 

I sprang forward with a shout of vengeance. 


410 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Villain ! you shall follow him ! ” I cried, grasping the 
soldier by the throat and jacket, and dragging him with all 
my strength towards the edge of the platform. 

“ What ! holloa ! hold on, Hal ! Confound it, man ! it’s 
me ! ” 

“Good Heavens — Taplin ! ” I exclaimed, relaxing my 
hold, and falling to my knees in a species of paralysis. 

It was my friend himself that stood before me, and the 
deserter who had been hurled over the precipice ! I had 
forgotten the late exchaiige of our uniforms. 

* * * * * * 

We found our horses in the woods below, and, mounting 
them, rode hastily to the camp, which we reached shortly 
after midnight. 

Next morning’s reveille awoke our regiment to the “ route,” 
and by noon of that day we were climbing the mountain 
road to the plains of Perotd. 

Poor Taplin 1 — his sword waved foremost in many a fight, 
till it waved over his glorious grave on the red field of 
Molino del Rey. 




CHAPTER LXII. 


AN ADIOS. 



HORTLY after the adventure of Taplin and 
myself, the Rifle Rangers were ordered 
back to Jalapa. Clayley had now recovered, 
and I once more enjoyed the society of my 
light-hearted friend. But neither that nor the 
smiles of the hospitable Jalapenas could make 
me happy. My thoughts dwelt upon Guadalupe, 
and often was I harassed with the painful appre- 
hension that I should never see her again. Better fortune, 
however, was in store for me. 

One day Clayley and I were sitting over our wine, along 
with a gay party of friends, in the Fonda de Diligencias, the 

41 1 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


41^ 

[principal hotel of Jalapa, when Jack touched me on the 
shoulder, and whispered in my ear : 

“ Captain, there’s a Mexican wants to see ye.” 

Who is it ? ” I demanded, somewhat annoyed at the in- 
terruption. 

“ It’s the brother,” replied Jack, still speaking in a 
whisper. 

“ The brother ! What brother ? ” 

“ Of the young ladies, captain.” 

I started from my chair, overturning a decanter and 
several glasses. 

“ Hilloa ! what’s the matter ? ” shouted several voices in 
a breath. 

“ Gentlemen, will you excuse me ? — one moment only — I 
_I_will ” 

“ Certainly ! certainly ! ” cried my companions, all at 
once, wondering what was the. matter. 

The next moment I was in the antesala, embracing 
Narcisso. 

“ And so you are all here. When did you arrive ? ” 

“ Yesterday, captain. I came to town for you, but could 
not find you.” 

“ And they are well ? — all well ? ” 

“ Yes, captain. Papa expects you will come this evening, 
with the lieutenant and the other officer.” 

“ The other officer ! Who, Narcisso ? ” 

“ I think he was with you on your first visit to La Virgen 
— un senor gordo.^'' 

“Oh! the major! Yes, yes, we shall come; but where 
have you been since we met, Narcissito ? ” 

“To Orizava. Papa has a tobacco farm near Orizava ; 
he always goes to it when he comes up here. But, captain, 
we were so astonished to hear from your people that you 
had been a prisoner, and traveling along with us ! We 


AN ADIOS. 


413 


knew the guerillos had some American ^prisoners, but we 
never dreamt of its being you. Carambo ! if I had known 
that ! ” 

“ But how came you, Narcisso, to be with the guerilla ? ” 

“Oh! papa had many things ^to carry up the country; 
and he, with some other families, paid Colonel Cenobio for 
an escort — the country is so full of robbers.” 

“ Ah 1 sure. Tell me, Narcisso, how came I by this ? ” 

“ I held out the dagger. 

“ I know not, captain. I am ashamed to tell you that I 
lost it the day after you gave it me.” 

“ Oh 1 never mind. Take it again, and say to your papa 
I shall come, and bring senor gor do ” along with me.” 

“ You will know the way, captain. Yonder is our house.” 
And the lad pointed to the white turrets of an aristocratic- 
looking mansion that appeared over the tree-tops, about a 
mile distant from the town. 

“ I shall easily find it.” 

“ Adieu, then, captain, we shall be impatient until you 
arrive — hasta la tarde P' 

So saying, the youth departed. 

T communicated to Clayley the cause of my temporary 
withdrawal ; and, seizing the earliest opportunity, we left our 
companions over their cups. 

It was now near sundown, and we were about to jump 
into our saddles, when I recollected my promise to bring the 
major. Clayley proposed leaving him behind and planning 
an apology ; but a hint that he might be useful in “ keeping 
off ” Don Cosme and the sehora caused the lieutenant sud- 
denly to change his tactics, and we set out for Blossom’s 
quarters. 

“ We had no difficulty in persuading “ el senor gordo ” to 
accompany us, as soon as he ascertained where we were 
going. He had never ceased to remember that dinner. Her- 



414 the rifle rangers. 

cules was brought out and saddled, and we all three galloped 
off for the mansion of our friends. 

After passing under the shadows of green trees, and 
through copses filled with bright flowers, we arrived at the 
house, one of the fairest mansions it had ever been our for- 
tune to enter. We were just in time to enjoy the soft twilight 
of an eternal spring — of a landscape siempre verde ; and. 


City of Mexico. Scene during the Carnival— Street Theatricals. 

what was more to the major’s mind, in time for a supper 
that rivaled the well-remembered dinner. 

As I had anticipated, the major proved exceedingly useful 
during the visit. In his capacity of quartermaster, he had 
already picked up a little Spanish — enough to hold Don 
Cosine in check over the wine ; while Clayley and myself, 
with “ Lupe ” and “ Luz,” walked out into the veranda to 
“take a peep at the moon.” Her light was alluring, and we 
could not resist the temptation of a stroll through the gardens. 


AN ADIOS. 


41S 

It was celestial night; and we dallied along dos y dos, 
under the pictured shadows of the orange-trees, and sat 
upon curiously formed benches, and gazed upon the moon, 
and listened to the soft notes of the tropic night-birds. 

The perils of the past were all forgotten, and the perils of 
the future — we thought not of them. 

It was late when we said “ buenas noches_ ” to our friends, 
and we parted with a mutual hasta la mananay It is 
needless to say that we kept our promise in the morning, 
and made another for the following morning, and kept that, 
too ; and so on till the awful bugle summoned us once more 
to the “ route.” 

The detail of our actions during these days would have 
no interest for the reader, though to us the most interesting 
part of our lives. There was a sameness — a monotony — it 
is true ; but a monotony that both my friend and myself 
could have endured forever. 

I do not even remember the details. All I can remember 
is, that, on the eve of our march, I found myself “ cornering ” 
Don Cosme, and telling him plainly, to his teeth, that I 
meant to marry one of his daughters ; and that my friend — 
who had not yet learnt the “ lingo,” and had duly com- 
missioned me as his “ go-between ” — would be most happy 
to take the other off his hands. 

I remember very well, too, Don Cosme’s reply, which was 
given with a half-smile, half-grin — somewhat cold, though 
not disagreeable in its expression. It was thus : 

“ Captain — when the war is over.^'' 

Don Cosme had no intention that his daughters should 
become wddows before they had fairly been wives. 

And we bade adieu once more to the light of love, and 
walked in the shadow of war ; and we toiled up to the high 
tables of the Andes, and crossed the burning plains of 
Perote ; and we forded the cold streams of Rio Frio, and 



4i6 the rifle rangers. 

climbed the snowy spurs of Popocatepec ; and, after many 
a toilsome march, our bayonets bristled along the borders 
of the Lake Tezcoco,. Here we fought — a death-struggle, 
too, — for we knew there was no retreat. But our struggle 
was crowned with victory, and the starry flag waved over 
the ancient city of the Aztecs. 

Neither my friend nor myself escaped unhurt. We were 


City of Mexico. Studio of a Spanish Artist. 

shot “ all over ” ; but, fortunately, no bones were broken, 
and neither of us was converted into a cripple. 

And then came the “ piping times of peace ” ; and Clayley 
and I spent our days in riding out upon the Jalapa road, 
watching for that great old family carriage, which, it had 
been promised, should come. 

And it came rumbling along at length, drawn by twelve 


AN ADIOS. 417 

mules, and deposited its precious load in a palace in the Calle 
Capuchinas. 

And shortly after, two officers in shining uniforms entered 
the portals of that same palace, sent up their cards, and 
were admitted on the instant. Ah ! these were rare times ! 
But rarer still — for it should only occur once in a man’s 
lifetime — was an hour spent in the little chapel of San 
Bernardo. 

****** 

There is a convent — Santa Catarina — the richest in 
Mexico ; the richest, perhaps, in the world. There are nuns 
there — beautiful creatures — who possess property (some of 
them being worth a million of dollars) ; and yet these chil- 
dren of heaven never look upon the face of man I 

About a week after my visit to San Bernardo, I was 
summoned to the convent, and permitted — a rare privilege 
for one of my sex — to enter its sacred precincts. It was a 
painful scene. Poor “ Mary of Mercy ” ! How lovely she 
looked in her snow-white vestments ! — lovelier in her sorrow 
than I had ever seen her before. May God pour out the 
balm of oblivion into the heart of this erring but repentant 
angel ! 

****** 

I returned to New Orleans in the latter part of 1848. I 
was walking one morning along the Levee, with a fair com- 
panion on my arm, when a well-known voice struck on my 
ear, exclaiming : 

“ I’ll be dog-goned, Rowl, if it ain’t the cap’n ! ” 

I turned, and beheld Raoul and the hunter. They had 
doffed the regimentals, and were preparing to “ start ” on a 
trapping expedition to the Rocky Mountains. 

I need not describe our mutual pleasure at meeting, which 
was more than ^ared by my wife, who had often made me 
detail to her the exploits of my comrades. I inquired for 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


418 

Chane. The Irishman, at the breaking up of the “ war- 
troops,” had entered one of the old regiments, and was at 
this time, as Lincoln expressed it, “ the first sargint of a 
kump’ny.” 

I could not permit my old ranging comrades to depart 
without a souvenir. My companion drew off a pair of rings, 
and presented one to each on the spot. The Frenchman, 
with the gallantry of a Frenchman, drew his upon his finger ; 
but Lincoln, after trying to do the same, declared, with a 
comical grin, that he couldn’t “ git the eend of his wipin’ 
stick inter it.” He wrapped it up carefully, however, and 
deposited it in his bullet-pouch. 

My friends accompanied us to our hotel, where I found 
them more appropriate presents than the rings. To Raoul 
I gave my revolving pistols, not expecting to have any 
further use for them myself ; and to the hunter, that which 
he valued more than any other earthly object, the major’s 
“ Dutch gun.” Doubtless, ere this, the ziindnadel has slain 
many a “ grisly b’ar,” among the wild ravines of the Rocky 
Mountains. 

A few days after I had a visit from Major Twing, who, 
with Hillis and others of my old comrades, was on his way 
to the frontier garrisons of Texas. From him I learned 
that Blossom, on account of his gallant behavior in the 
affair at La Virgen, had received the brevet of a colonel, 
and was now employed in the department at Washington. 

Courteous reader! I was about to write the word “ adieu,” 
when “Little Jack ” handed me a letter, bearing the Vera 
Cruz post-mark. It was dated, La Virgen, November 
1849.” concluded as follows ; 

“ You were a fool for leaving Mexico, and you’ll never be 
half as happy anywhere else as I am here. You would 
hardly know the “ ranche ” — I mean the fields. I have 
cleared off the weeds, and expect next year to take a GOupl<« 


AN ADIOS. 


419 

of hundred bales off the ground. I believe I can raise as 
good cotton here as in Louisiana ; besides, I have a little 
corner for vanilla. It would do your heart good to see the 
improvements ; and little Luz, too, takes such an interest in 
all I do. Haller, I’m the happiest man in creation. 

“ I dined yesterday with our old friend Cenobio ; and you 
should have seen him when I told him the man he had in 
his company. I thought he would have split his sides. 
He’s a perfect old trump this Cenobio, notwithstanding his 
smuggling propensities. 

“ By the way, you have heard, I suppose, that our ‘ other 
old friend,’ the padre, has been shot. He took part with 
Paredes against the Government. They caught him at Quere- 
taro, and shot him with a dozen or so of his ‘ beauties ’ in 
less than a squirrel’s jump. 

“ And now, my dear Haller, a last word. We all want 
you to come back. The house at Jalapa is ready for you, 
and Doha Joaquina says it is yours, and she wants you to 
come back. 

“ Don Cosme, too — with whom it appears Lupe was the 
favorite — he wants you to come back. Old Cenobio, who 
is still puzzled about how you got the knife to cut through 
the adobes, he wants you to come back. Luz is fretting 
after Lupe, and she wants you to come back. And, last of 
all, I want you to come back. So ‘ stand not on the order ’ 
of your coming, but come at once. 

“ Yours forever, 

“ Edward Clayley.” 

Reader, do you want me to come back ? * 

* I am happy to say that the reader has long since kindly answered 
this question in the affirmative. — A uthor. 

June^ 1853 . 



NOTES 


“ The land of AnahuacT — Page 5.] (Pronounced Anna-hwawk.) 
The ancient name of Mexico. Both Spanish and Mexican writers fre- 
quently make use of this name when speaking poetically of the country. 

“ Varied is the aspect of that pictur e-land. " — Page 6.] No country on 
the face of the earth is more varied in its aspect than Mexico. Its sur- 
face is a constantly-changing panorama of hill, mountain, valley, and 
plain; and you have before you, at different periods of your journey, 
the flora of the different zones. Sometimes you may behold that of all 
three at a single glance. Perhaps no country is better entitled to the 
poetical appellation of “ picture-land.” 

Rolling'’ landscapes.” — Page 6.] The term “ rolling,” as applied to 
the surface of a country, is, I believe, American. It is used to designate 
a peculiar geological formation, common throughout the American con- 
tinent. It is not exactly what would be termed a “ hilly country,” but 
one whose surface consists of parallel and rounded ridges. “ These 
undulations remind one of the ocean after a mighty storm, when the 
crisped foam has died upon the waves and the big swell comes bowling 
in. They look as though they had once been such weaves, that by an 
omnipotent mandate had been suddenly transformed to earth and stood 
still ! ” — Scalp-hunters. Prairies of this peculiar formation are termed 
“ rolling prairies.” 

for nada.” — Page 7.] fornada (pronounced hornada) means a jour- 
ney. The Jornada de caballo (journey on horseback) and the joriiada de 
atajo (journey with a mule-train) are different — the latter, of course, 
being much shorter than the former. It is possible in a single Jornada 
de caballo to pass through all the scenes described in the first chapter 
of this book. 

Pescador.” — Page 7.] Pescador — fisherman. 

“ Polacca.” — Page 7.] Small vessels of “ polacca ” rig — that is, with 
masts all in one piece — are very common throughout all the seas of 
Spanish America. They present a beautiful appearance when thus 

421 


422 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


rigged, the eye being pleased with the unbroken line of the tall and 
tapering masts. 

“ Piragua'' — Page 7.] Piraguas (pronounced peerawgwas) are small, 
sloop-rigged vessels, in use among the West Indies and along the coasts 
of the Gulf. They are used in the coasting trade, carrying fruit, fish, 
etc. They may be seen also on the Lower Mississippi and the bayous 
of Louisiana, among the French creoles of those parts. They are there 
termed “ pirogues.” 

'■'■A foreign flag." — Page 7.] Alluding to the English mail-steamer. 
Mexico has no steam navy — in fact, few ships of any kind. Her two 
w'ar-steamers, Guadalupe and Moctezunia., during the late war took 
shelter in the harbor of Havana to avoid being captured by the Amer- 
ican fleet. They were sold at this period (to the Spanish Government, 
I believe). 

“ Principal portP — Page 7.] Vera Cruz is the principal seaport of 
Mexico ; but withal its commerce is very insignificant when compared 
with that of Liverpool, New Orleans, or any of the great English or 
American ports. 

Slightly formed, cadaveroiis menP — Page 7.] Supposing them to be 
Mexicans, this character is just. The “ men ” of Mexico, but partic- 
ularly those who dwell in the towns, are small and bilious-looking. The 
women present a better appearance, and, in general, are fine-looking 
creatures. It was a common saying among the officers of the American 
army that the “ women of Mexico were the best 7 nen of the country.” 

Sometimes, on the landing of the mail-steamer at Vera Cruz, a few 
fresh-colored, robust forms, in caps and tweed shooting-jackets, may be 
seen to step ashore. These gentry are “ John Bulls,” however, many 
of whom have established themselves in the country, and, along with 
the P'rench, manage both its mines and its commerce. 

“ Snow-drift." — Page 8.] This sand-hill formation is not peculiar to 
Mexico, but there is, perhaps, more of it to be found along the Gulf 
coast than elsewhere. 

“ Coup-de-soleil." — Page 9.] The “ coup-de-soleil " (sun-stroke) often 
occurred to the soldiers of the American army while campaigning in 
Mexico, as it is now occurring to those of the English force at Rangoon. 
Quite a large number of both men and officers fell victims to this sud- 
den and terrible visitation of the climate. 

“ Norte." — Page 9.] The “ Jiorte," literally “ north wind,” but more 
often a tempest, prevails at certain seasons along the coast of the Mex- 
ican Gulf. It is called “ norther ” by the Texans and the seamen. It 


NOTES. 


423 


is much dreaded by the skippers of those seas — the more so as the in- 
hospitable coast of Mexico presents so few points where ships can find 
either shelter or anchorage. The “ norther,” as its name implies, blows 
from the north, and carries with it an icy coldness, which, it is said, 
favors the yellow fever, or vomito prieto (black vomit), as the Spaniards 
call it. 

“ Almost harborlessP — Page 9.] There are but few harbors along the 
shores of the Mexican Gulf that admit large vessels. In fact, there are 
few of any sort, either on the Atlantic or Pacific side of Mexico. It 
would seem as if Nature had not designed that this country should be 
the seat of a great commerce. 

“ Gigantic UianasP — Page 10.] There is no feature of the tropical 
forest more striking than the huge parasitical plants. They are often 
seen of more than a foot in diameter, like great trees of themselves, and 
reaching, sometimes horizontally, sometimes diagonally, across the vista 
of your path. The dark iron-color and corrugated bark of these mon- 
ster vines give them a singular appearance ; but it is impossible for the 
traveler to view them winding around the tree trunk without being 
struck with their resemblance to great serpents. 

“ Bamboo-briers P — Page 10.] Many species of large briers {smilax) 
are found in the Mexican underwoods. 

“ Scarlet vineP — Page 10.] So called from its beautiful red blossoms. 
It is not uncommon to see large trees completely covered with the 
foliage of this vine, and these again hidden by its flowers, looking like 
an immense pyramid of scarlet blossoms. 

“ BignoniaP — Page 10.] The beautiful trumpet-shaped corollas of this 
vine are the favorite resort of the humming-birds, which often disappear 
within the flowers while feeding upon them. 

“ The palma realT — Page ii.] Palma real — the royal palm {attalea ) — 
is one of the tallest and most beautiful of the palm tribe. It is, I be- 
lieve, the same as is known by the name “ Palmyra palm,” though in 
Spanish America it is termed palma real. It frequently grows to the 
height of a hundred feet ; and, strangely enough, a very small species of 
palm, called by the Spanish Americans “ cana de la India ” (Indian 
cane), is always found growing near to it. 

Corozol’’ — Page ii.] Another beautiful species of Mexican palm. 
Under the leaves the fruit is produced, and consists of a nut about the 
size of a walnut, and, like the latter, encased in a pulpy substance. 
This substance is gummy and fibrous, and adheres to the shell with 


424 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


much tenacity. The nuts of the corozo grow in immense clusters, after 
the manner of grapes ; and, hanging down along the trunk under the 
umbel of the fronds, add much to the fine appearance of the tree. The 
trunk of the corozo looks as if it had been turned in a lathe, so smooth 
and rounded is it. I believe the corozo is the same as the palma redonda 
(round palm), and that among the Mexicans these names are used in- 
differently. 

AbanicoP — Page ii.] “Fan-palm.” The well-known fan-palm, or 
talipot-tree (Corypka iimbractiliferd), is a native of the East Indies, 
where it is distinguished for its beauty and numerous uses ; but, not- 
withstanding, there are several species of the fan-plant in America, and 
they are known by the name “ abanicoP which signifies a fan. Like 
their eastern congeners, they are put to many uses. Their trunks are 
employed to enclose the “ corrals,” or cattle-pens ; their vast leaves 
make roofs for the houses ; and mats and sombreros (hats) are woven 
out of them. 

Wayi palm." — Page ii.] {Ceroxylon andicola.) This species exudes 
from its bark a resinous substance resembling wax : hence its vulgar 
name. The substance is used for making light. 

Acrocomia." — Page ii.] Called by Humboldt Palma melicot 07 t. 
This is a beautiful species, with a spacious trunk and plume-like leaves. 
It is found in great plenty on the Upper Orinoco. It produces a farina- 
ceous fruit, growing in enormous racemes of one hundred and fifty to 
two hundred on one petiole, and of a deep yellow color, like the yolk of 
an egg. These fruits are of a sweetish taste, and both as nutritive and 
wholesome as either plantains or bananas. The Indians are extremely 
fond of them, and use them to a large extent. 

“ Mammey." — Page 1 1.] {Mammea Americana.) A tree whose timber 
as well as fruit is valuable. The fruit is somewhat like a cocoanut, 
stripped of the fibrous rind, on the outside ; but the shell, when broken 
(and this is easily done, as the latter is thin), discloses a beautiful saf- 
fron-colored pulp, which surrounds several large smooth seeds of a 
chestnut color. This pulp is excellent eating, and the fruit is seen in 
all the “ plazas ” (market-places) of Mexican cities. 

“ Mahogany-tree." — Page ii.] The name of the mahogany-tree {Swie- 
tenia mahogani) in Spanish America is “ caoba-tree.” It is found 
throughout all tropical America; but that of Southern Mexico is 
esteemed the best. 

“ Tanagers." — Page 1 1.] There are several species of tanagers in Mex- 
ico. They are small birds, of bright plumage. One species is of the 
purest, unmixed scarlet color. They do not take to the cage, like some 


NOTES. 425 

other birds, but usually flutter themselves to death or pine away under 
their captivity. 

'■'■Noisy lories'' — Page ii.] The parrots — called “lorettos” by the 
Mexicans — are very garrulous in the woods. There are many species 
peculiar to Mexico. 

“ Resplendent trogons." — Page ii.] These beautiful birds are becom- 
ing better knowui than formerly. There w'ere supposed to be only two 
or three species until lately ; but the tropical forests of America have 
turned out nearly a dozen new species within the last few years. 

“ The toucans." — Page 1 1 .] The toucans are becoming better known 
to the world, through the exertions of Mr. Gould, the ornithologist, 
who has already made collections of different species. The same re- 
mark may apply, and with greater appropriateness, to the trochili and 
colibri (the humming-birds), of which beautiful and spirit-like forms 
Mexico is the favorite home. 

“ Carpenter-bird." — Page 12.] Picus principalis, or ivory-billed wood- 
pecker. This is the largest of the woodpecker tribe, and his name of 
“ carpenter-bird ” is, no doubt, derived from the noise which he creates 
w'hile pecking for his food under the bark of decayed trees. This ham- 
mering can be heard at the distance of a mile. “ Wherever he frequents,” 
says Wilson, “ he leaves numerous monuments of his industry behind 
him. We there see enormous trees wdth cartloads of bark lying around 
their roots, and chips of the trunk itself, in such quantities as to suggest 
the idea that half a dozen ax-men had been at work there for the whole 
morning.” 

The ivory-billed woodpecker is the inhabitant of intertropical coun- 
tries, and in the United States he is only found in the more southern 
parts. 

“ Crested curassow." — Page 12.] A great many species of the curassow 
tribe are already described by ornithologists, and no doubt others still 
unknown to naturalists may be found in the vast jungles of South 
America and Mexico. 

“ Turkey of Honduras." — Page 12.] It was for a long time supposed 
that the wdld turkey of North America {Meleagris gallipavo) was also 
an inhabitant of the southern part of that continent. This is now 
known not to be the case. The bird mistaken for the turkey of the 
north must have been either the curassow or the species in question, 
“ the turkey of Honduras.” The last may fairly be ranked with birds of 
the first class, not only as regards plumage, but in the quality of its 
flesh. The plumage is of a dark mottled green, with metallic luster. 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


426 

and the form of the bird is very similar to the Meleagris gallipavo ; but 
it is of smaller size. Few birds excel in beauty of form and color the 
turkey of Honduras. 

“ Graceful roe." — Page 12.] The common deer of Mexico is a small 
and exceedingly graceful species of the red deerbf the north (Cervus 
Virginianus). 

'•'‘Caiman." — Page 12.] Sometimes written cay man f of the same 
species as the alligator {Alligator Mississippiensis). These animals are 
fierce in direct proportion to the wildness of the district which they 
inhabit. 

'•'■Iguana." — Page 12.] The iguana {^ro\\ovLnce.d eegwana) is a lizard, 
frequently arriving at the enormous dimensions of more than three feet 
in length. A singular crest rises upon the upper part of its head, and 
extends along the back as far as half-way down the tail — resembling, 
more than anything I can think of, a saw placed teeth-upward. Under 
the throat of the iguana there is a fold or sac of loose cuticle, reaching 
from the lips to the breast — not unlike what is seen upon oxen, under 
the common name of “ dewlap.” The iguana is of a dull green color ; 
but the females, which are smaller than the males, are frequently seen 
of a beautiful clear green. It is an oviparous animal, and the eggs are 
deposited in holes in the sand, or in the earth, on the borders of rivers, 
to the number of forty or more. The eggs are eaten by the Indians 
and Mexicans. So, too, the flesh, which is esteemed a great delicacy in 
most parts of Spanish America and the West Indies. It is white and 
tender, and tastes not unlike chicken. 

The iguana lives mostly in the trees, and generally takes to them 
when hunted. Sometimes, however, it plunges under water, if in the 
chase it should arrive at a river or lake. It can remain thus for a con- 
siderable time without breathing. It is usually hunted by dogs trained 
for the purpose ; but, as soon as the creature is “ treed,” the hunter, by 
whistling, prevents it from hiding itself altogether until he has thrown 
the noose of a lazo over its head, which he does with great dexterity. It 
is said that the iguana is so enchanted by the music of whistling that it 
will even permit itself to be touched with a pole without moving from 
the perch. When noosed with a lazo, it is jerked down from the tree 
and killed. 

“ The basilisk." — Page 13.] The basilisk, fabulously celebrated as a 
creature whose glance produced death, is one of the most innocent of 
the lizard tribe. It lives upon the banks of streams, and feeds upon 
insects. There is a loose skin under its throat, and a scaly crest rises 
upon the back of its head, which serves it as a sort of sail when swim* 


NOTES. 


427 


ming. It is not more than four or five inches in length, and its flesh is 
eaten by the Indians, who esteem it equal to the iguana. In fact, the 
latter is not the only lizard which* is eaten by the aborigines of America. 
Nearly all the species are prized as articles of food. 

“ The biting geckotiiiT — Page 13.] Called cotejo'' by the Spanish 
Americans. This is a small yellow lizard, with black stripes and one 
white one running longitudinally along the spine. Its belly is white, 
and its feet are long and hand-like. It is nocturnal in its habits, and is 
found among dry logs and old walls, where it hunts for insects. Its 
bite is said to produce fever, and it is one of the few lizards that the 
Indians will itot eat. 

“ The macaurel." — Page 13.] The macaurel is a very large snake, 
similar to the boa in color and habits. It is a tree-climber, and feeds 
upon animals and birds. 

“ The tiger-snake T — Page 13.] The tiger-snake {Cnlebra tigre) is so 
called on account of the spots on its body resembling those on the 
Mexican tiger (jaguar). When the tiger-snake is irritated and makes 
to strike its object, it raises its head several feet from the surface of 
the ground. There are individuals of this species twelve feet in length. 

CascabelT — Page 13.] The cascabel is well known as the “rattle- 
snake” {Crotalus horridus) of North America. There are several 
species more or less venomous. 

“ Coral-snake.” — Page 13.] The coral-snake is one of the most veno- 
mous of the serpent family. Its bite, if not cured by the juice of the 
“ guaco-plant ” {Mikania guaco) or some other antidote, is almost cer- 
tain to prove fatal. It derives its name from its color, which is of the 
hue of coral, with rings of a darker color. The coral-snake is much 
dreaded by the natives of South America. 

“ Tillandsia.” — Page 13.] The well-known Spanish moss, which, like 
long streamers, hangs from the branches of various species of trees in a 
tropical forest. It is sometimes called “ old man’s beard,” from its re- 
semblance to gray hair. It is used by the people where it is found to 
stuff mattresses, sofas, harness, etc., and is esteemed equal to curled 
horsehair. Its botanical name is Tillandsia usneoides. 

“ Ouistiti.” — Page 13.] There are many species of the ouistiti mon- 
keys in tropical America — some of them not much larger than rats. If 
any monkeys may be called beautiful, these deserve that name. 

Zambo.” — Page 13.] The “zambo” monkey is one of the largest 
ftfid fiercest of the family of quad-rnmana* He is often seen in the 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


428 

Mexican forests as large as a Newfoundland dog. They go in troops, 
and will attack human beings w'hen assailed by the latter. The zambo 
is of a ferruginous or brownish color,* uniform all over the body. 

The ocelot." — Page 13.] The “ onza ” of the Spanish Americans is 
a small species of panther. It is harmless, except w'hen “ at bay.” It 
possesses a keen vision and sense of hearing. It is shy of man, and 
nocturnal in its habits. 

The panther T — Page 13.] The panther {pantera) of the Spanish 
Americans is altogether a different animal from either the panther of 
the East or the panther (improperly so called) of the North Americans. 
The animal of this name in South America is a smaller species than 
the jaguar, of nearly similar markings, but much more voracious in pro- 
portion to its size. It keeps within the deepest recesses of the jungle,, 
and only comes out into the open country when pressed by hunger. 

“ The lynxT — Page 13.] The lynx is the “ wdld cat ” of North Amer- 
ica, and is sometimes called the “ catamount.” There are several dis- 
tinct species established by naturalists. The Canada lynx {Lynx Cana- 
densis)'2Lndi the bay lynx {Lynx rufus) are the best known. 

“ Gnsanitos." — Page 14.] The gusanitos are a species of fire-fly, 
smaller and less brilliant than either of the cocuyos. The male alone 
is a winged insect, and at all hours of the night may be seen flying over 
the roads, in the woods and fields. The female lies hid all day among 
the leaves. At night she appears, shining like a glow'-worm, while the 
male flies around her, shedding his light at intervals. The gusanito is 
of a brownish-black color. It is the only fire-fly which is found so far 
north as the latitude of the United States. There it is frequently 
termed the “ lightning-bug.” 

“ Vampire." — Page 14.] The existence of the bloodsucking bat is 
not a fable, as some suppose. Two or three species are found in the 
forests of tropical America having this character. Their principal food 
is insects ; but they attack the larger animals, and even man w'hen 
asleep, and, puncturing the flesh with their sharp mandibles, drink the 
blood. Animals have often been found dead, their death caused in this 
manner ; and travelers, who went to sleep without taking proper pre- 
cautions, have waked up again to find themselves wounded by the vam- 
pire, and faint from the loss of blood. They are said to draw the blood 
while poised upon their w'hirring wings, thus fanning the wound, so 
that its pain does not awaken the sleeper. There are two or more 
species that are fond of blood. One— a very large kind, a foot or 
more in Ijgngth — preys upon animals, while that which attacks man is a 


NOTES, 


429 

much smaller sort. There are many species of bats that are quite 
harmless, and live only on vegetable substances. 

Lechuza." — Page 14.] This great owl preys upon squirrels, rabbits, 
and other small animals. Its cry is of the most disagreeable kind, and 
is often likened by the Mexicans to the groan of a man who is half 
strangled. 

Dog-wolf'.— 15.] The same as the prairie wolf [Lupus lat- 
rans), or barking wolf of the north. It is called by the Mexicans 
“ coyote.” Its name of “ barking-wolf ” is derived from its cry, which 
begins with three short barks, like those of a dog, and ends in a long 
and piteous howl. 

Bell-frog." — Page 15.] The traveler in the southern forest is struck 
with the numerous voices of cicadas, tree-toads, and frogs, that reach 
his ear. The various species of these creatures are but little known. 
There are many species of hyla and hyloides undescribed. The “ bell- 
frog ” [Hyla viridis) is so termed from its note, which may be easily 
distinguished among the others by its clear metallic sound, resembling 
the tinkling of a small bell. It is also sometimes called the “ green 
tree-frog,” from its color, and the habit of dwelling upon the trees. 

The loud “ 11 - 1 - 1 -uk ” of the tree-toad [Hylaversicolor) is also something 
strange, when falling suddenly upon the ear of the solitary traveler. 
This note is uttered most frequently when rain approaches, and it can 
be heard at a good distance. The “ Savanna cricket ” is another of the 
hyla' — the smallest known. It is a beautiful little creature, and derives 
its name from its chirp, which is not very dissimilar to that of the com- 
mon house-cricket, f 

Skunk." — Page 16.] The skunk [Mephitis sometimes im- 

properly termed “ polecat,” exists in great plenty in the tropical forests. 
The air is sometimes filled with their disagreeable odor, and then you 
may be sure that some other creature has enraged it, as it only emits its 
peculiar scent when defending itself against an enemy. 

“ Cocoa-palm." — Page 16.] The cocoa-palm [Cocus nuciferd) is in- 
digenous to America, and in many parts this magnificent tree is found 
growing wild. It is cultivated, however, for the sake of its nutritious 
and agreeable nuts. 

Sweet lime." — Page 16.] Many species of limes, some of gigantic 
size, are grown in the orchards of Mexico, particularly around Jalapa. 

'•'■Shaddock." — Page 16.] This tree is an exotic in Mexico, where it 
flourishes well, producing its great globes to perfection, and forming an 
ornament. The guava-tree is also found here. 


430 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Aguacate''' — Page i6,] (Laurus Per sea). This tree produces a 
fruit about the size of a large pear, and of a green color, mottled with 
black blotches. Its fruit is insipid, but it is much prized by the Mexican 
gourmands for their soup — why, I cannot divine. It is sliced into the 
soup in a raw state, and then eaten. 

Cherimolla"' — Page i6.] Or “cherimoya” — considered by many 
the most luscious of all fruits. It is as large as a cocoa-nut, and some- 
what of the appearance and taste of a very ripe pear. 

“ Palmetto." — Page .18.] The “ palmiche,” or “ mountain palm ” — 
sometimes also called “ cabbage palm,” and known in Florida as the 
“ palmetto.” 

“ Yuccas." — Page 18.] Many species of yucca are indigenous to Mex- 
ico. Some of them bear edible fruit. 

Log cabiu." — Page 22.] In the forest-covered mountains the “log- 
cabin,” not unlike that of the Western backwoods, is common. The 
picturesque hamlets of La Hoya, Las Vigas, and other mountain vil- 
lages of Mexico, are built of logs, these being the readiest material in 
such places. 

“ Carbonero." — Page 22.] In most of the Mexican cities charcoal is 
the only fuel used, and this is obtained from the mountain forests. No 
fires are made for warmth, and there are few houses that have either a 
grate or a furnace. Stoves are unknown, and the kitchen, with its 
“ brazero,” is the only part of the house where fire is kindled. 

From morning till night the “ carbonero ” fills the streets with his 
doleful cry — “ Carbon ! carbon ! " (charcoal). 

“ Arriero."—VdigQ 22.] The “ arriero ’’—the muleteer, or rather the 
“ carrier ” of Mexico— with his picturesque costume, his long joumey- 
ings, and his trustworthiness, has been so often the theme of admira- 
tion and description upon the part of travelers, that we need not say 
more of him here. 

Ice of the glaciers."— 22.] The gentry of the Mexican cities 
indulge in the luxury of ice, or, rather, frozen snow, which is brought 
down from the mountains of Popocatepec, Orizava, etc. 

The ^cumbre' of Orizava."— 2-^?^ The Peak of Orizava, so 
called in the language of the country. Orizava was once an active 
volcano, and the flame issuing from its apex suggested its poetical 
name, which is Indian, and means “ the Burning Star.” 

“ Comanches." — Page 26.] The most warlike and powerful of modern 


NOTES. 431 

Indian tribes. They inhabit the western part of Texas, and make reg- 
ular forays both upon the Mexican and American settlements, 

“ Calve'"’ — Page 27.] The prima do 7 ina of a French operatic troupe^ 
then very popular among the Orleannois, more especially with the 
French creoles. Half a score of duels were fought among these fiery 
people, originating in disputes about the merits of the ca^itati'ice. 

“ TremeP — Page 27.] One of the faubourgs of the old city of New 
Orleans — a quarter famous for assassinations and night-brawls. It is 
in the neighborhood where most of the quadroon and masked balls are 
held. 

“ The PeaksT — Page 28.] The Spanish Peaks, near Santa Fe, are a 
well-known landmark of the mountain trappers. 

“ Store-keeper T — Page 28.] The contempt of the “ mountain men ’’ 
(the trappers) for all shopkeepers — called by them “ store-keepers ” — is 
quite as great as that which Rob Roy entertained for the worthy 
weavers of Glasgow. 

“ Crow." — Page 29.] Lincoln refers to an Indian of the “ Crow ” 
tribe, who inhabit the banks of the Yellow'stone River. These Indians 
are a fine race of men. 

“ Graitde." — Page 29.] The Rio Grande of Mexico, called by the 
trappers “ the Grand River.” 

“ Debt." — Page 29.] I alluded to an adventure in the Rocky Moun- 
tains, several years before, in which, but for Lincoln, I should have lost 
my life. 

“ Craps." — Page 29.] A popular game among the creoles of New 
Orleans, played by dice. 

“ Sign." — Page 29.] The trapper phrase for traces or marks : a 
“ beaver sign ” — the tracks or other marks that indicate the presence of 
the beaver. 

“ Calaboose." — Page 30.] The municipal prison of New Orleans is 
termed “ calaboose,” from its ancient Spanish name, “ calabozo." 

“ Recorders — Page 30.] The magistrate of New Orleans who attends 
to the police cases is termed the Recorder. 

’“Puncheon." — Page 31.] Penchant. 

“ Yeller-bellies." — Page 31.] The contemptuous phrases of “ yellow- 
hided ” and “ yellow-bellies ” were applied to the Mexicans by our 
soldiers and backwoodsmen on account of the yellow, coppery complex- 
ion of the half-breeds, so numerous in Mexico. 


432 


THE RIFLE RANGERS. 


“ Elected an officer I '' — Page 32,] The officers of most of the regi- 
ments who served under the name of “ volunteers ” in the Mexican war 
were elected by their own men, but afterw^ards commissioned by the 
Government. In many instances the election was only a form, most 
of the officers being appointments of the colonel. 

“ Creole I ' — Page 33.] This word is almost always misunderstood in 
England. A creole is not a person of mixed African blood, but one of 
the pure Caucasian race, born in America. The word in New Orleans 
is only applied to natives of the place, who are mostly of French extrac- 
tion. The synonym in Spanish is criollo^ and means a native Spanish 
American. Persons of mixed blood may be creole quadroons, creole 
mulattoes, but never “creoles.” The French creoles of New Orleans 
are a handsome race. The females are celebrated for their beauty. 
The men have many good qualities, but are prone to quarrel hastily, 
and numerous duels, both with sword and pistol, are the consequence. 
The creoles are a much finer race of men than the Frenchmen of France 
itself, although the latter will not admit this. 

“ Whole team I' — Page 34.] “ A whole team ” is a Western phrase, 

which represents a man of no ordinary capacity. “ A whole team and 
a cross dog under the wagon,” is the ne plus ultra of cleverness. 

“ LickerP — Page 34.] To take liquor — to drink. “ Take a smile ” is 
another of those fancy phrases for taking a glass in which America 
abounds. 

Armory P — Page 35.] In all the American cities there are volun- 
teer corps, who have large buildings where they keep their arms and 
accoutrements. These were used during the Mexican war as rendez- 
vous for recruiting, drill, etc. 


“ LobosP — Page 38.] Lobo signifies “ a wolf,” and also a “ sea-wolf ” 
or “ seal.” Hence the name as applied to the island. There are many 
islands around the Spanish American coasts, each of which bears the 
name “ Island of Seals.” The Lobos here spoken of is an uninhabited 
islet, about a mile in circumference, formed upon a coral foundation, 
and surrounded by a coral reef. 


“ Palmetto StateP — Page 48.] South Carolina has adopted the name 
of the “ Palmetto State,” from the be^iful tree of that name, which 
there grows in abundance. §20 iKf 

“ AugustaP — Page 49.] This, being a frontier town, and affording an 
easy means of escape for certain criminals of South Carolina, who could 
not be pursued over the line, held in earlier times a very bad reputation. 

THE END. 
























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